Like Magnets
by HiddenOra
Summary: Erin Rachels is just a normal 24 year old waitress. In a near accident, she was lucky enough to be saved by some strange man. All she knows is that he is called Bucky. Set after CA:WS. Bucky/OC Warning for language, bad puns, and bad summary.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: James Buchanan Barnes

May 29, 2014  
8:41 P.M.

I jogged slowly along the sidewalk of the city, keeping my bright blue gaze straight ahead. My long black hair was tied up in a ponytail, always swinging with each running stride I took. My tanned skin tingling as I continued my daily run, feeling the multiple stares of people, watching me, watching my legs, watching my ass and my breasts. Breathe in and out, in, out. Look ahead. Adjust ear bud. The sun was going down. No worry, my car was just a few blocks away. My heart hammered in my chest as I ignored my surroundings, convincing myself that it was usual.

My name is Erin Rachels. I am 24 years old and out of college. I moved to the city of Washington D.C. not too long ago and work at a resturant as a waitress. My apartment is tiny, but comfortable and can house at least three people. Many people have stated that I have a dark complexion about me. Must be my hair. It was straight and a silky black color. I'm unaware of how I have it. Maybe Asian ancestors. The ends of my hair reached to the bottom of my shoulder blades. I had a curvy body, much to my dislike. It was useless and I was bitter about it.

D.C. was okay. It was crowded, busy, obnoxious. Too many fumes existed in the air. Too many people existed. It would make me feel so uncomfortable. The crowds, the large amount of sweating bodies clustered together. I wore a loose gray jacket, black tank top underneath, and black basketball shorts. Nothing flashy, flamboyant or mistakenly misleading. Though, I don't understand why people are convinced that I apparently am wanting their attention. I hate them. Don't talk to me, touch me, don't even look at me or breathe the same air as me.

I adjusted my face into a menacing glare, to ward off any curious bystanders. The sun's rays nearly blinded me as I jogged down the sidewalk, avoiding bikers and pedestrians. Almost there, yes just around the corner now. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a group of men. All of them were wearing loose fitting clothing. Not a very clear picture though. There was four to be exact. My blue eyes stared straight ahead, hoping not to attract any attention. Suddenly, my legs picked up the pace from my slow jog to something a little faster. I could hear their laughter and catcalls through my buds. I began to heavily pant. Now I was sprinting. The corner was closer, coming closer. I pivoted my feet as I took the turn, nearly losing balance as I rushed my body straight to my car. The parking lot was nearly empty, given a few cars here or there. It was large with many streetlights, but it looked like a pit of dark hell to me. Shadows cast themselves everywhere and my dark green car was the only safe place I could think of. Quickly, I tugged my ear buds out of my ears, stuffing them into my pocket, joining my IPod and keys. Finally, I placed my hands on the door of the Toyota Corolla. My fingers dug into the pocket of my jacket, fishing for my keys. Cold metal hit the pads of my fingers and I quickly snatched them up, fumbling for the right keys. My gaze dragged over to a dark corner. I squinted, seeing a man-or something-hunched over, a baseball cap pulled over his face. Why did I pause? Suddenly, someone grabbed the cheek of my rump, giving it a squeeze. I yelped and jammed my key into the car door, quickly unlocking it and nearly ripping the door open.

"C'mon sweet thing why you running?" a deep voice asked me. My body crawled into the vehicle's seat, only to be ripped right out of it. My hands clawed at the leather unsuccessfully, my chin smashing into the black pavement. My body was suddenly forced onto its back. The man who had ahold of me had a red sock hat on, and his skin was a sickly pale. His eyes looked bruised from lack of sleep. His cheeks were sunken in and hollow looking. A brown baggy coat hung over his large limbs.

"Don't take all of the fun out of it, Tommy," the one named Tommy turned his head, glancing at a middle-aged looking man. His hair was balding near the front and was missing his two front teeth. He had a leather jacket on.

"Don't interrupt me Raymond!" Tommy shouted and grabbed my waist, pulling me onto the ground further, making my jacket ride up my spine. Cool pavement met my skin, giving me shivers. I felt my eyes begin to water as I kicked out and tried to force myself up. Tommy stood up, and kicked me. I automatically leapt up and darted to the side of my car, only to be pushed onto the trunk of it. This time, Raymond held me down, grinding his bulge into me. A whimper escaped my lips as I struggled once more, sliding my body from side to side.

"HEL-!" Raymond cut me off by pressing his large hand over my mouth, muffling any noise.

"She's a fighter, eh?" the group laughed. Something slashed the back of my thigh. I felt my blood ooze out of the freshly made wound, trickling down my left leg. I screamed into the hand, attempting to fix my teeth over his calloused palm. His hands groped my inner thighs, caressing my waist, sliding along my mounds of flesh. His breath was hot with desire as he bit my neck, giving a mocking laugh.

"Wow, hey dude, leave us alone," I heard a higher pitched voice speak. Nothing in response.

"Did you hear me fucktard? I said to leave-oof!" I heard the slap of a fist against flesh. Raymond let me go and twisted around, readying himself for a fight. I scrambled away, limping along my car, but I slowed. It was the man with the blue baseball cap. He wore a dark blue jacket and jeans. His hair was long and brown and seemed like it hadn't been washed in weeks. A dark beard had begun to grow, littering his cheeks and chin with brown hair. His face was a mask of calm composure, confident in this fight. From what I could tell, the High Pitched man lay on the ground, holding a bloodied nose. Raymond had a knife out, my crimson blood dripping from the edges of the metal. Tommy had his fists up. Another man was crouched. He was thin and gangly, like Tommy. Reminded me of Golem. To add in effect, the man spat out a wad of mucus onto the ground. The menacing long haired man just stood there, completely unfazed by the group. Tommy struck first, hopping over to the Mystery man. He swung his right fist forward, knocking Tommy off to the side. Tommy didn't give up, refused even. He charged again. The man kneed Tommy in the stomach and kicked him away, suddenly acting upon Golem. He slid to the right and leapt into the air, twirling as his foot connected with Golem's head, forcing the ugly creature away. Raymond hollered and charged, his knife pointed at the man. The man just blinked and bent his knees, his hands raised up defensively. Raymond lifted the knife to keep it level with his chest and sprinted forth. Once he was only a foot away did the man react. His left fist swung upwards, coming in contact with Raymond's chin. My attacker flew backwards for many yards, his body limp and tumbling as he rolled away. My savior straightened his legs and was about to leave. Yet, he paused, hesitated. My chest heaved as I began my descent to the driver's side. As I moved forth, my hand slipped from steadying myself on the car, my left leg gave out.

My descent to the pavement was short lived as my arm smacked into the ground, my leg screaming. I clasped a hand over my mouth, feebly trying to silence the sob that threatened to escape me. My shoulders shook as tears dripped down my cheeks. My eyes met those of my Savior's. He stared at me, wide-eyed. Then, he proceeded forward, his movements jagged, as if he didn't know how to approach me. I slid myself back, my spine pressing into my car. I shook my head multiple times, as if refusing for him to come near me. The man knelt in front of me, left hand on his knee, right hand reaching for me. His expression asked me what was wrong.

"M-…my leg, he cut me," I whispered, my voice oddly low and scratchy. My blue eyes widened drastically as he leaned near me. His eyes were green; he was attractive. His features were defined, yet seemed soft. I held my breath as he pulled back, my keys in his left hand. My Savior wrapped his right arm around me, his arm underneath my pits. I could feel the muscles ripple as he raised me gently to my feet. I hopped onto my right foot, carefully raising my left leg. My Savior walked me slowly to the passenger's seat, opened the door, and seated me. I pulled the seat belt over my body, hissing with pain as my blood leaked everywhere.

"Ooh, God, I need a hospital. Probably stitches…"

I glanced at the man now in my car. He stuck the keys into the start-up thing, the engine roaring to life.

"What's your name?" I asked, my eyelids fluttering. I was tired, not only physically, but also mentally. With the back of my hand, I wiped away tears. My Savior started to drive my car, making sure to be careful with the speed limit. Finally, he glanced at me, but our gazes locked momentarily. What was he thinking? My heart thumped steadily against my chest as I watched him watching me. His jaw worked for a second before he spoke, the confidence drained from his voice.

"Bucky," his voice was kind of deep with a slight accent. It seemed as if he hadn't spoken in such a long time. My Savior seemed uncertain about the answer, as if he wasn't even sure that that was his name. I nodded and leaned my head against the window, letting several emotions swarm over me. I held myself as I cried, attempting to silence my sobs.

"Thank you, thank you," I sniffed, salty tears streaming down my cheeks. It probably wasn't very smart of me to get in a car, my car to be specific, with a stranger, but what else could I have done? Limped my way to the hospital, with several shadows and strangers at my back? The man saved my life. Not like there was anybody else I could have put my faith in. Bucky nodded, and stared ahead. 20 minutes later, we arrived at a hospital. Bucky helped me out and I limped over and into the main room, feeling Bucky's arm let go of me. I leaned against the counter, one hand pressed against my wound, the other on the counter.

"I need a doctor, or someone to stitch me up," I asked, the nurse nodding quickly. She let me lean against her and started to guide me to a room. I glanced back, blue eyes desperately searching to meet with those dark green eyes. He was gone. I was about to give up until I saw his figure beyond the glass doors of this hospital. He stood there, his baseball cap on, both sleeves pushed up slightly. My eyes widened as they saw the glimmer of silver on his right arm. Then, he was gone. The nurse tugged me into the room, telling me to take off my clothes, put this gown on, and lay down on my stomach.

Did I imagine it? Who was this Bucky that I had met? Something about his face seemed familiar. Like I had seen him before. The only question was where.

* * *

James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky repeated the name over and over in his mind. The soldier shoved his hands into his pockets of his dark colored jacket, nearly ripping the pockets off. Long greasy brown hair that brushed against his jawline had been tucked behind his ears. Brown stubble grew on his cheeks and chin. A blue baseball cap had been stuffed onto his head, attempting to hide his face from the people of Washington D.C. He was on the run, been on the run for a while now. Though, the incidents with Hydra and Captain America weren't too long ago.

James Buchanan Barnes.

He remembered everything clearly. The man on the bridge, the man on the ship. Blonde hair, blue eyes, stars and stripes. The man insisted that they were friends, insisted that the soldier's name was Bucky. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Memories slowly slid into place, but he still couldn't place them correctly. Faces would get mixed, events that had occurred would be blurred. To help clear his mind and attempt to figure out who he was, Bucky had gone to a Smithsonian. Over to his section. Some glass like wall had a large face on it. Bucky's face. His name had been scrawled into the wall.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Steve Rodgers. That's the man on the bridge's name. Time and time again, he had saved him. Bucky stared at his picture, green eyes widened with…astonishment, horror? He felt his heart stop in mid-beat. He had to get out. A mask of calm contentment slid over his face, tucking himself away from the world. He turned around, stopping short once he met the eyes of a child.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Two small children stared up at him, wide-eyed. Both wore Captain America shield t-shirts. One was a little girl, the other a little boy. Both had blonde hair. Twins. The little girl stared up at him and gave a wide and toothy smile, pointing at Buck.

"Bu-ck-y," the boy heavily emphasized the Winter Soldier's name and smiled widely at him. Bucky backed up and slid to the left, quickly shoving his way out. He felt almost suffocated in this throng of people. Funny to say that, considering he had to hide among people to commit an assassination.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Then, Bucky ended up here. In this parking lot. It wasn't too dark, but something about it seemed ominous the way the shadows stretched across the black pavement. Bucky was comfortable hiding in the dark. It's where he belonged. A few minutes pass before a young lean woman is sprinting to her vehicle. Bucky watched her from under his ball cap. She thrust her car key into the slot, unlocking it with speed, and practically ripped the door open. She was scared, terrified of an unseen threat. Bucky noticed that she merely glanced at him before jumping, another man behind her. Three more gathered behind her.

"C'mon sweet thing why you running?" the man asked. The woman dived into the car, but was unlucky in her endeavor. The man that had grabbed her pulled her out, and got on top of her, holding her down with his body weight. Bucky's muscles clenched as he watched the scene unfold. He needed to do something. No, it wasn't his problem. But it's happening right there! The soldier gritted his teeth, something inside of him screaming to go and help her.

"Don't take all of the fun out of it, Tommy," one of the men laughed and took a step forward. Bucky's fists clenched together in rage as past morals began to resurface.

"Don't interrupt me Raymond!" The one named Tommy dragged the girl further from her car and then stood, viciously kicking her in the side. She still fought Tommy though, and jumped up, running along the side of the car. She had to be hurting by now. The one named Raymond suddenly hopped over to her and stopped her, forcefully bending her over until her chest was flat against the trunk of her vehicle. The middle-aged man was disgusting. He was fatty looking, balding, and seemed like he was trying to be cool by donning a faded leather jacket. Bucky began to creep forward, sticking to the shadows as cover. He reflexively bunched up his fists, clenching and releasing them like he'd always done before a fight. The metal plates on his arm shifted as if he was flexing a normal muscle. He shifted his jacket to make it more comfortable to walk.

"HEL-!" the woman screeched, causing Bucky to walk faster, his jaw muscles working with a fiery angry. His hand automatically touched his hip, feeling a bit empty without the weight and feel of his guns.

He was James Buchanan Barnes.

"She's a fighter, eh?" Raymond commented, causing the group to chortle. A scowl fixated itself onto Bucky's dirty face. Finally, the ex-soldier had made it close enough for one of the men to see him.

"Wow, hey dude, leave us alone," one of the men said, furrowing his eyebrows. Bucky spread his legs slightly, making the dark 6 foot figure even more intimidating. Raymond paid no attention to what was happening. Apparently, he held a knife between his fingers, blood already dripping from the tip. Bucky directed his gaze to the man who attempted to shoo him away.

"Did you hear me fucktard? I said to leave-oof!" Bucky swung his right fist at the man, the mass of force connecting with the man's nose. The stranger had been lucky that the Winter Soldier had used his normal arm instead of his metal one. The puny human fell onto the ground, holding his nose, blood gushing from between his fingers. A smirk threatened to tear through Bucky's mask of calm composure, but he held it back. Just like they had trained him to. Raymond turned around, his knife poised in case of attack. Another one of the men crouched down, his back arched and looked sickly. He spat onto the ground, a large wad of slimy white mucus falling out. Bucky sniffed.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Tommy swung first. Bucky easily fended him off and hit in the side, staying with his right arm. Tommy was knocked down, but the rapist refused to quit. He hopped onto his feet once more and charged at the soldier. Bucky was nearly insulted at how easy the fight was. So, he simply kneed Tommy in the gut and kicked him away, leaving the man to roll on the ground, groaning dully. The soldier acted upon the crouched man and leapt gracefully into the air, his foot slamming into the side of the man's head; it knocked him out instantly. The body slumped to the ground, his face landing into his mucus.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Raymond snarled and pointed the tip of his knife directly at Bucky. In response, the Winter Soldier bent his knees, readying himself for the fat man's oncoming attack. With a scream, Raymond ran forth, closing the distance between him and the muscular man. Until Raymond was only a foot away did Bucky react. He swung his metal arm backwards before having it snap forth, crushing into the man's face, instantly killing him. The body of the middle-aged man was flung backwards and didn't land until it was a good few yards away. Raymond was limp. Bucky wasn't even panting.

James Buchanan Barnes.

He heard something hit the ground, causing Bucky's gaze to snap to the near-forgotten woman. He had been so wrapped up in his little fun that he had completely forgot about her. Guilt rose in his gut. Clearly, she was wounded; her face a bit bloodied and bruised, her leg pulsing blood. A scared expression was imprinted upon her face as she pushed herself away, her spine pressed into the car. Bucky awkwardly moved forward, unsure at how to approach the wounded stranger. Once close enough, the soldier knelt, metal hand resting on his knee, normal hand reaching for the woman. He put on a concerned expression, not really caring to speak.

"M-…my leg, he cut me," she spoke quietly, as if her voice might wake the dead and unconscious men. The woman was actually rather beautiful. Blue eyes adorned with straight black hair and golden skin. Small dots of freckles were faint upon her cheeks. Her full lips were parted from panting as she stared up at Bucky, eyes widened. The two studied before Bucky reached out for her again, slipping his hand next to her, grasping for the keys. He could feel her breath on his neck; Bucky swore he heard her heart thumping. Once his fingers found the familiar feeling ridges, he pulled back and placed his right arm around her back and under her armpits, lifting her as he did, keys now in his left metal hand. Bucky slowly walked the woman to the passenger's side of the car and allowed her to slide in before climbing into the driver's seat. He pushed the key into ignition, hoping he remembered how to drive one of these things.

"Ooh, God, I need a hospital. Probably stitches…" the woman muttered, groaning. Hospital, right. Bucky narrowed his eyes, once more hoping that he even knew where a hospital was. He glanced at the woman.

"What's your name?" she suddenly asked. Bucky started the car and drove onward, pulling out of the parking lot. He stared at the road, eyes wide in surprise at why she had asked such a stupid question. No one needed his name. Everyone hated him. His name was little of importance. Besides, giving a name would be pointless. She would never see him again and he probably really intimidated her, like he did everyone. One look at his scraggly like hair, large figure, and dead green eyes usually made normal people run. Besides, it probably wasn't even his real name. He had only just received this information from the man on the bridge, who he vaguely remembered. So, the man decided to use the other name that "Steve" had used for him, when he had first saw his face.

"Bucky," Bucky responded and didn't look at the woman. She stared at him for a bit, then returned her gaze to the window, leaning her head against the glass. Suddenly, she burst out in tears, sobbing as she hugged herself awkwardly, obviously her leg still paining her.

"Thank you, thank you," she cried with her head bowed, shoulders shaking. Bucky felt awkward, knowing that his past self has to have had at least some experience with crying woman. He continued to drive to the hospital, praying to whatever that he was even going to the right way. Finally, the bright lights of D.C. Hospital shined in the windows.

Bucky pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and got out of the car, quickly walking to the other side to help out the woman. The soldier helped the girl into the hospital, then quickly went off on his own. Something made him pause and turn. Bucky faced the hospital, staring through the glass doors; his gaze was trained on the mysterious woman. A nurse was helping her hop along, but at that moment, she too had turned. Their gazes met. The Winter Soldier stood there, endlessly staring before she was forced into a room.

Bucky turned once more and began to walk off, regretting the fact that he never received the woman's name. Thoughts of the previous events popped up into his mind, at how he was a hero. At how past morals resurfaced from the blank slate that was his mind. A look of determination became etched into his face, making people veer away from him.

He was James Buchanan Barnes. And he was remembering.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Fault in Our Barnes

May 31, 2014

Saturday, 7:30 P.M.

Bucky adjusted the glove on his metal hand, attempting to conceal the fact that it wasn't even flesh. His breath billowed slightly. It was a cold evening, a bit odd, considering how warm it was getting. Especially the fact that summer was practically upon the DCers. It didn't matter. Bucky had a jacket and at least one glove, a pair of jeans and shoes. All he needed was food. Surely, he was able to survive before with barely anything in his stomach. Ever since the assassin broke free of his brainwashed trance, it seemed as if he could barely push any bodily need aside. He had been hungry for days now, fending off of dumpsters. If he had thirst, he would go to a water fountain (if he found one) and drink from that. People would stare at him, throw him a few dollars. But mostly, they would walk off with a quick step in their stride. Nobody wanted to confront a long haired, dirty, and menacing looking man who appeared muscular enough to rip you a new one.

The Winter Soldier tucked his shoulder length hair behind his ears, feeling bothered with how long his mangy hair had gotten. Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets and ducked his head, the bill of his cap creating a shadow over his face. With a slow pace, the man began to walk past buildings that were erected after his time.

He missed Brooklyn. He missed the buildings, the smells, the homely effect it had. He missed the children that ran around, playfully fighting. He missed the women. A small smile pulled at his lips. Bucky's memories were slowly coming back. Though, he vaguely remembered a Steve Rogers. Tiny, blonde, thin, sick, scrawny. That was what he knew. That's all he knew right now.

All of his memories were hazy, as if they were just a part of a dream. Sometimes, Bucky doubted that they were even real. What if Hydra planted those memories there? It seemed unlikely, especially when Bucky had such happy memories. The soldier shook his head, rubbing his forehead with his right hand. Something ran into him. Well, someone. The soldier, acting upon immediate instinct, leapt back, his arms held up defensively.

"Hey, dude, watch where you're going," the pitchy voice of a puberty cursed boy whined in Bucky's attuned ears. He scrunched up his nose, scoffing at the irritable child. The boy looked like your typical hormone induced teenager. He had a baggy band shirt on with low riding jeans that sagged around his hips. A black beanie with a skull imprinted on the threads had been shoved onto his sack of blonde hair. He even held a skateboard in his hands. Bucky glanced around. Surely, that wasn't the style people were hyped about these days, right?

The soldier sighed, relaxing his stance into something more natural. The boy glared at him, before pulling his gaze away from Bucky. He was intimidated by the dark appearance of the strange man that had run into him. Especially with the long hair that fell in his face. The kid took a step back, swallowing uneasily.

The Winter Soldier suddenly wanted to pull up those jeans, get a better, _proper_ shirt, and toss the beanie away. Instead, he just flexed his hands and gritted his teeth, moving sideways to let the boy pass. Bucky continued on his walk to…where exactly? Damnation.

Another sigh escaped his lips as he turned his head to the left, catching his rugged reflection in the windows of the buildings. Wow, he looked like absolute shit. His green eyes stared at the glass, suddenly interested in what was beyond them instead of himself. Various mannequins stared right back at him, their pale faces glistening oddly. The styles of clothing in the modern world were quite strange. They were described as hip, or chic. Bucky shook his head subtly, grimacing. It was so much simpler. The store ended, only to have another set of windows enter. It was a restaurant. It had a simple look to it, nothing too extremely fancy or "modern" look to it. Two waitresses and a waiter buzzed around, one looking oddly familiar. Her long black hair flowed behind her, tied up in a ponytail of course, as she twisted around, merely glancing out the window before she did a double take, her jaw dropping once Bucky's green eyes met with her blue. It was her, the girl he had saved only a few days before.

He stopped, frozen. Just continue walking. But his legs refused to move. The girl shouted something at one of her coworkers and quickly pushed open the glass door, her hands lightly placed on the metal hand bars. She swung herself out of the restaurant, a smile on her face as she rushed over to Bucky, a limp in her step.

"Bucky!" the girl threw her arms around the post soldier's neck, her body pressed close to him. Bucky's breath was lost, his words gone. Instead, he just stood there like a limp noodle, not quite knowing what to do. The girl pulled away, her face reddening.

"Oh, sorry about that," she murmured once she realized just how uncomfortable Bucky looked. He shrugged and forced to keep his eyes on her face. The girl's work clothes sort of clung to her body and her curves. Even her pants defined her legs. One thing that Bucky didn't quite mind about the new age was the fact of how clingy the women's clothing seemed to be. He shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

* * *

It had been a long day for me. Working tirelessly from one hour to the next, my mind always on _him_. Bucky, the man who had saved me from those pigs. My boss had even caught me daydreaming at the order placements. Our business wasn't large, nor was it small. It was a bit cutesy, with colorful décor and booths. Our specialty was sandwiches. I mean, sure, we made other stuff, ranging from soups to desserts, but we mostly made everything sandwiches such as: ultimate clubs, barbeque sandwiches, etc. Yeah, we weren't fancy. The only thing that was sort of fancy about us was our name, _La Ciudad_, which quite literally meant The City, translated from Spanish. My boss is Mexican and thought the name a bit funny.

Anyways, as I have stated many times, I work at the La Ciudad_. _My coworkers are pretty cool. Bella Quartz, a pale and short girl, at the age of 22, always came into work on time. She had shoulder length strikingly blond hair and brown eyes. She always looked so petite, like a glass doll. Sometimes, I would joke about that around her, but I rarely said anything about her fragile look.

Then there was Marcus Leaf. Dark skin and dark hair, at the age of 21, tall and quite handsome if I do say so myself. Though, we had considered dating before, we never really went through with it and just decided to keep our relationship friendly. Sometimes, he could be obnoxious, but he was usually polite and always humored me and Bella. Though, Bella loved to point out the fact that Marcus might still have feelings for me, even though we both cleared that foggy horizon. Ugh, I hate drama.

I held two sandwiches in my arms, carefully placing them on a customer's table. It was a man and a child. Father and son, I assumed. The boy squealed with delight, lapping his hands as he saw the size of the sandwich. I chuckled lowly, always loving the reactions of children. I pulled away, smiling as I turned around, the giant windows facing me. My eyes passed across the glass, but what was behind it was what caught my attention. A man was slowly walking along, his head turned towards the window. Our eyes met. It was him. It was Bucky. My heart thumped steadily against my chest as I sought out Bella.

"Hey Bella! Can you cover for me for a moment?" I called out and began to walk fast towards the door.

"Yeah, of course!" came her sweet reply. I rushed myself out of the glass door, hurrying myself to where Bucky stood.

"Bucky!" And of course, I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. I felt the man stiffen, as if unsure of what to do. Sensing his awkwardness, I pulled away, a smile lighting up my face.

"Oh, sorry about that," I bashfully glanced down, wanting to smack myself, "I'm a bit of a hugger."

"It's uh…it's alright," Bucky responded, his voice quiet yet just how I had remembered it. How strange this must be for him. To be hugged by some random woman you practically just met. I felt foolish for impulsively grabbing him like that.

"Do you want to come inside?" I asked him, pointing a thumb in the direction of the door. Bucky looked up (more of down) at me and held his breath momentarily.

"It would be pointless; I don't have any money to buy anything," he shrugged, a muscle feathering in his jaw.

"I can buy you dinner. Our sandwiches don't cost all that much anyways," I gave another smile, hoping he would accept. From the way Bucky observed me, it seemed as if my hope was evident. With reluctance, he nodded, avoiding eye contact.

"Alright, cool!" I proclaimed and turned around, nearly skipping back inside. I constantly glanced behind me, as if Bucky were a child. I led him all the way to the back of the restaurant and sat him down, giving an approving smile.

"I'll leave you here for now. Do you want just a sandwich, or whatever?" I began to ramble, a stupid grin on my face.

"What do you suggest?" the poor thing seemed so lost with my words.

"I suggest getting the ultimate club, that's my favorite. You know what, let's just get you that. I'll bring you one in a few minutes," I responded and back away, hurrying to the kitchen. I was suddenly stopped by Bella, her hand in the air.

"Who's that?" she asked, peering around my torso. I chuckled as she gulped, her brown eyes wide.

"Just a friend who had helped me a few days ago."

"Wait, is that that guy you kept rambling on about? What's his name…is that Bucky?" she asked, staring at me as if I were insane. I gave her a small nod, grimacing.

"He's so creepy looking," Bella lowered her voice to a whisper, her lips pressed together.

"Who's creepy looking?" Marcus's happy voice nearly scared the shit out of me. I jumped around, hand pressed against my chest.

"Marcus! Don't do that," I struggled to keep my voice lowered, my eyes narrowed. The man laughed, giving me an odd look.

"I guess Bella's talking about that guy over there in the back. Yeeaah, I have to agree that he is pretty weird looking. Is he a hobo?" A curious look passed over Marcus's face as he stared at Bucky. I roughly elbowed him.

"Don't Stare! Also, I'm pretty sure he's not a hobo. At least I hope not. I mean sure, he looks the part…oh my God, I think he actually might be a hobo," I bit my lower lip, embarrassed, "But no matter what, he saved my life so I owe this to him. DON'T bother him. You might scare him away."

"Alright, alright. Though, it's nice to know what you actually think of us," Marcus snorted and walked off, gathering some patient customer's dishes. I glided back to the kitchen, popping my head in the spotless place. It was small, but easy to move around in and looked very shiny. Rico Sanchez, my boss and main chef was grilling up barbeque.

"Hey Rico, can you whip up a quick ultimate club?"

"Of course I can. What do you take me for?" Rico laughed, scratching at his chin. He had dark curly hair, held back with a hair net, and tanned skin. He had the face of a baby, even though he was about 43 years old. His eyes were the color of brownies and were warm and very homey. I laughed and leaned against the doorway, crossing my arms.

"So, is it for someone special?" he asked, busying himself with making the order. I shrugged.

"Just for a guy who helped me the other day."

"Is this the same guy Bella told me about? What's his name…Lucky?"

"It's Bucky," I snorted, my cheeks burning. Rico looked up at me, staring intently.

"Here, I'll make the sandwich for free," he stated.

"What? No, I'll pay for it-"

"Erin, you've been good to me, and you're a good worker. Just for tonight, his sandwiches will be for free. Only for tonight, though. I still need money and just handing food away for free won't make your paycheck," Rico sternly informed me. I nodded quickly and grabbed the now finished order, quickly escorting it out of the kitchen. Once Bucky's table was in view, a grin settled on my face. But, it was quickly ripped away when I saw Marcus and Bella both with the man.

* * *

Bucky sat down and watched Erin walk off, admiring the place. A few people stared at him, especially children. Words were muttered about him. So, the soldier kept to himself, placing his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together, the sides pressed against the light blue table. Then, the chairs in front of him screeched. His head jerked up, muscles flexing instinctively. Bucky needed to stop that. A waiter and a waitress stared at him, their eyes cold.

"Hello, sir. I hear that you helped out our friend the other day. And she seems to be…rewarding you," the dark skinned man sat down while the female stood, her arms crossed against her chest.

"Now, don't even get the idea that she'll give you more than that, because I will assure you, if you try anything with her-"

"-And we mean anything-" the young girl piped in.

"Right, I will tear you in half" the man threatened. Bucky only chuckled. He gave the waiter an intense stare, letting a small smirk play on his lips.

Bucky's intense green gaze shifting over to the woman. She stiffened dramatically, her eyes widened. She glanced at the man beside her before adjusting her stance. He frightened her, even if it was only with his eyes.

"Bella! Marcus!" the woman Bucky had saved called them away, her face twisted into an angry expression. She waved them off and set the plate down in front of Bucky, setting a glass of water down as well. The soldier sighed and moved the plate to him, cautiously picking up the food. He stared at it, bringing it to his nose, subtly sniffing it.

"What's in this?" he asked, certainly not curious about its ingredients. It was an automatic reaction to being handed something. It could have been poisoned. But this woman wouldn't try to kill him, right? Unless the incident had been staged. Hydra could still be out to get him.

"Uh, ham, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, you know. The whole shebang," the woman shrugged and sat down in one of the chairs across from him, leaning against the back of it, one arm resting on the tabletop. She had winced once she sat down, clearly saying that she was still hurting from the stitches she got from her cut. Bucky stared at the sandwich, grunting. With a shrug, he bit into it. Glorious flavor entered his mouth, and it was wonderful. In a few ravenous bites, Bucky had finished the entire sandwich, looking up expectantly for another. The woman laughed quietly and grabbed a few napkins from the content holder, a small ad for desserts displayed as well, and threw the napkins at him. Bucky caught it with ease and wiped his mouth, feeling self-conscious that he had even made a mess out of himself. He grabbed the glass of water, gulping down the liquid. It soothed his dry throat, and it tasted sweet and refreshing.

"May I have another?" Bucky asked, giving a small smile. Once the waitress got up, Bucky found the restroom, which wasn't too hard to find if you followed the signs. He sighed and relieved himself and began to wash his hands at the sink before glancing up into the mirror. Oh God, he looked worse than he had thought. Quickly, Bucky washed his face, removing most of the grime from his face. He removed his baseball cap and patted it out, trying to distill any dirt. Then, he patted his hair down and tucked the strands behind his ears once more, his face looking remarkably better than before. Though, a proper bath would certainly do him some good. His stubble looked slightly charming though, in an odd way. Bucky sighed to himself, wondering why in the world he even cleaned himself up. Shrugging, he made his way out and sat back at his table, finding the woman already sitting there with two more sandwiches.

"Took a awhile. Though, you're face looks cleaner, so I assume you were just cleaning up a bit," the woman smiled. The ex-soldier nodded and sat down, wolfing down the food. Finally, his stomach was satisfied and he took a large gulp of the water, letting it slide comfortably down his throat.

"What's your name?" Bucky asked the woman once he was done, reminding himself to wipe his mouth. She smiled.

"It's Erin. Erin Rachels," she replied, adjusting her position, "So, are you a hobo?"

"What?"

"My friends were wondering and I kept denying it, but are you homeless?" Erin asked, concern etched into her face. She leaned forward, making it hard to stay concentrated on her face. Bucky licked his lips, wanting to answer the question, but then again had his doubts. Might as well come out with the truth.

"That's how it worked out, yeah. I guess I am," his response came out as a chuckle, as if he found the thing funny. Which he kind of did. Erin's expression changed from concern to pity.

"I'm sorry to hear. What was your occupation before?" Erin asked. Bucky flinched slightly, caught off guard by the question. He shifted in his seat, wondering what kind of response he should give.

"Oh, I'm sorry, was that too personal? I'm kind of snooty like that, I-"

"-Military. I…I was in the Military before," Bucky interrupted, biting his lip. Maybe he shouldn't have given that out. He glanced up at the clock. It was going on 9. How had two hours gone by so quickly? He stood up.

"I should go. Your customers are clearing out as well. Thanks for the food. I am grateful for it," Bucky thanked Erin. The waitress stood up as well and the two walked away from the table when suddenly a man's drink hit Erin's stomach. The coffee spilled onto the floor, a few drops getting onto her apron. Bucky stared calmly as the scene unfolded, considering his options of how to react. Well, it would have been easy, but most of his options were scraped away once the yelling ensued.

"Hey, you dipshit! You spilled my drink everywhere!" the man growled, his other buddies chuckling. Erin bent down, pulling a rag out of her pocket and shamefully began to wipe up the liquid, her brow creased. The woman stood up, her rag soaked through, shoes squeaky. The man hand whipped out and brushed against Erin's hip, clearly making her uncomfortable. Bucky's jaw clenched, his green eyes narrowing. The waitress took a step forward, only to have her rear end smacked indecently by the man, tearing laughter from his group. Erin gripped the back of her leg, gritting her teeth to mask the pain that shot through her.

Bucky shot forward, his metal hand slamming into the tabletop, accidently breaking part of it. Luckily, it only cracked and didn't break in half. But it was still bad and seemed irreparable. The table didn't matter at the point. With Bucky's human arm, he grabbed the despicable human by his hair and slammed the side of his face into the table, clearly hurting the man. He squealed at the top of his lungs, clawing at Bucky's arms, reaching for his face.

"APOLOGIZE TO HER!" Bucky snarled loudly, eyes wide with intensity as he grinded the man's cheek into the damaged table. The strange man sobbed repeatedly saying sorry.

"I'm sorry, sorry, so sorry, I won't do it again, I promise you, man, now let go of me!" satisfied, Bucky pulled away, shifting into a relaxed stance. One of the impolite man's buddies stared at Bucky with wide eyes.

"No human could have broken the table. What are you?" he asked, fear clear in his voice. Bucky narrowed his eyes.

"I am a soldier," he responded and turned, pushing his way out of the restaurant. Before he left, he caught the horrified gaze of Marcus. The Winter Soldier smirked to himself, and began to pick up his pace.

"Wait, Bucky!" Erin called after him, limping drastically towards him. She tripped on the sidewalk and was about to plummet down towards the concrete if it wasn't for Bucky catching her swiftly, his hands wrapped around her arms. The man quickly set her upright, letting go of her. Erin grunted, staring up at Bucky with wide eyes, filled to the brim with admiration.

"Thank you for defending me, oh thank you, thank you!" Erin leaned forward and once again, embraced Bucky, her chest pressed up against his. This time, Bucky didn't just stand there. Instead, only with his real arm, his wrapped it around her, keeping her close to him for a moment. Bucky relished the closeness of Erin, her scent writhing around him, teasing him. And then, it was over. The girl pulled away, a smile planted on her face. The soldier only blinked at her before smiling back, his heart warming.

"Feel free to come back anytime soon. Also, good luck on whatever endeavor you have," Erin shrugged and turned back, walking slowly into the restaurant. Bucky wanted to call her back, but instead watched her leave him. Her limp was still evident. Marcus ordered the men to leave, obvious by his stance and the way he gestured to the door. Bella cleaned up the mess that had been made and stared at the broken tabletop, wondering how the hell Bucky even managed that. Bucky's eyes followed Erin until she disappeared. Movement caught his eyes as Marcus walked forth, glaring darkly at the soldier. Bucky just gave him a blank stare and turned around, walking to some alley he could sleep in.

Bucky examined his left hand, grimacing at the torn glove. Apparently, it wasn't advised to slam your metal fist into a table when a thin and shitty glove covered it. He would have to replace it and soon, before anyone saw the silver colored plates. The man shivered, nearly forgetting how chilly it had gotten. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

**I wanted to thank the people who reviewed this and who followed and who Favorited this story. It really makes me happy to know that this is getting recognition. I should upload another chapter these weekend, if I am able to! Also, do expect many name puns in the chapter titles because I will have endless fun with it and you can't stop me.**

**Much love and many thanks. **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Up all Night to get Bucky

June 6, 2014

Friday, 8:51 A.M.

Rico, Marcus, Bella, and I stared at the nearly broken table. I crossed my arms, a painful grimace plastered onto my face. Goddamn, Bucky practically destroyed the tabletop. I glanced over at Rico, biting my lower lip. His face looked oddly calm.

"Watcha thinking?" I asked my boss, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm thinking that _somebody_ needs to pay that off," he murmured. I scowled.

"Rico, I could pay it off. I mean, I did bring Bucky here-"

"Stop it, Erin. This…Bucky guy did a favor for us. Well, kind of a favor. If it wasn't for him, those perverts would come back. I have some thought of how what we could do," Rico trailed off, tapping his chin with his index finger. We all waited for an answer until Bella chose to speak up.

"Like what?"

"Well, I could ask him to pay up front," Rico suggested, frowning.

"How would he have any money? That guy's a hobo," Marcus spoke up, looking exhausted. He gave me a pointed stare. I scrunched up my nose.

"So basically, Erin brought a stranger in here. Two things wrong with that. One, did you see how fast he moved? There's a reason he's out on the streets, and I don't think it has anything to do with financial support," Bella narrowed her brown eyes at me, crossing her own arms against her chest, lips squeezed tightly together, "And two, he now knows where you work, which is a very bad thing. One day, he WILL follow you home. If you haven't noticed, he can quite easily dominate you and who knows what would happen!"

"This Bucky could be a killer. That must be why he's always on the streets. It's because he's looking for his next victim. Unless, he's already found her," Marcus lifted his hands, gesturing out his part of the argument.

"Bucky's not a killer! If he was, then I would already be dead! Twice now, he's defended my dignity, and you guys automatically assume that he's threatening because he's taken out a few guys," I raised my voice at them, incredulous at how judgmental they were being. I had to admit, my friends were right. Bucky was technically a stranger to me. There could be no possible way that I could trust him.

"Wait, a _few_ guys? I thought you just said there was one that attacked you," Marcus's voice broke, and I could just hear the anger bubbling up behind it.

"Okay, I might have left out a few parts. I only told you about the one who cut my leg. There were actually four others that ganged up on me," I cringed, hunching my shoulders up as Marcus threw his hands up in the air, walking away and into the kitchen.

"So, basically, Bucky is like a war machine. I'm trying to look after you Erin, we all are," Bella took a step forward, his face wore disappointment. I looked away from those big brown eyes staring up at me.

"Okay, okay, I messed up. You can say 'I told you so' at my funeral," I sighed and fell into one of the booth chairs, gently resting my head upon the broken table top. I heard Bella sigh and walk off, gathering up condiments to put on the tables.

"Does Bucky need a job?" Rico asked and sat across from me. I lifted my head, shrugging.

"Yeah, I guess so…why do you ask?" The question was pretty obvious.

"Well, Bucky could work here. I mean, he does have to pay off the table, once I get it replaced. Besides, I guess we owe a favor to him," Rico leaned back, giving a small yet uplifting smile.

"You really mean it?" Excitement bubbled up inside of me as I leapt up from the booth and practically ran around to the other side, hugging Rico tightly. He chuckled, patting me on the back. Bella swerved back over to us, an eyebrow raised.

"Bucky might be our new co-worker," I explained. Poor Bella. Her jaw dropped as she stared at me and Rico in horror.

"Did our talk not do anything to change your mind in trusting him?" Bella asked, looking at me like I was insane. Which I wouldn't really doubt. I shook my head, smirking.

"Not at all."

* * *

Bucky stared at up the name of the homeless shelter. He had found the Salvation Army when a man passed out a flyer to him. The soldier glanced down at the crumpled flyer in his hands, glancing back up at the sign. This was it. He sighed, pushing his way inside. The place was filled with people shuffling around with bowls in their hands. Some were standing and eating, others sitting either on the floor or on benches. Once more, Bucky's eyes flitted back down to the flyer in his hand. It said that they had bathrooms, showers, food, and warm beds.

"Hello sir, welcome to the Salvation Army. My name is Amy. May I help you with anything?" a pretty woman with red curly hair approached him, a large smile on her face. The woman was a busty character and pretty much seemed happy most of the time. Her eyes were a hazel color, her nose turned up slightly, and had thin lips. Her face was roundish, giving a childish appearance to her. A few reddish brown freckles could be found on her cheeks. White clothing hung around her body, giving nothing away about her _other_ attributes. The collar of her shirt was buttoned right up to her neck and her pants were baggy.

"No thank you, ma'am," Bucky sighed and rolled his shoulders, pausing. "Actually, can you tell me where your showers are?"

"Of course, right this way. May I ask what your name is?" Amy guided him around people, leading him to the backrooms.

"Bucky," he grunted. Amy nodded as if she really cared about him.

"Left is for males, right is for females. Do you need anything else?" she chirped, giving the large smile on her face that seemed too big for her.

"Uh…do you have anything that could cover my arm?" Bucky inquired slowly, staring intently at the woman. She nodded slowly, chewing on her lower lip.

"Like something for a cast? Yeah, we have some plastic wraps. Hold on, just wait here and let me get you something," Amy held up a hand, as if ordering Bucky to stay. He nodded and tucked a few loose strands of hair behind his ears. There was no point in keeping his cap on his head right now, so the soldier took it off, shaking out his greasy dirt ridden hair. He rubbed his chin, feeling the stubble scrape against his palm. He sighed as Amy came back with some plastic bundled up in her arms.

"Here you go, Bucky. Anything else?" the red head questioned, her eyes wide with hope.

Bucky shook his head and turned left, pushing open the door. Many shower stalls were lined against the walls, most were occupied. Cubbies filled with white fluffy towels were near the door. The soldier helped himself to one. Bucky slowly paced through the line, finally finding a stall that was empty. He rushed himself inside and looked around. The shower head was right in front of him, a drain below his feet. To his high left, a rack had been set up for his clothes and belongings, high enough to stay dry, but low enough for someone short to reach. Another rack was on his right, filled with cheap soap and shampoos and conditioner. Bucky placed the folded towel on the left rack.

The soldier then began to strip down. First his jacket and long sleeved shirt, then his shoes, and lastly, pants and boxers. He folded his clothes neatly and set them on the rack, shoes and his cap on top. Then, he unraveled the plastic, fitting his metal arm inside and pulling it up to cover his shoulder as well. The soldier hated the crinkling noises it made, giving away his position. Well, it would give away his position if the man was on a mission.

Bucky turned on the shower (after figuring out how), shivering as cold water hit his skin. He stood there with both arms at his side, allowing the water to soak his long hair, causing it to stick against the back of his neck and cheeks. The water ran down, washing away the grime that had built up on his skin. The liquid turned warm, making Bucky's muscles loosen up. After a few minutes of just standing there, Bucky picked up what he guessed as the shampoo, squirting some into his hand. He slowly combed through his hair, letting the shampoo foam up. He rubbed at his head, becoming rougher by the second. Finally, he washed the shampoo out of his hair and grabbed the conditioner, doing the same thing. Done with that. Now the soap. He picked up the white rectangle, seeing that it was fresh. How nice of them, replacing the soap bars. Bucky scrubbed his body down, making sure to get everywhere, even his face. Once done, he placed the soap back in its home and once again let the water dribble down his body.

The soldier's mind was practically a blank slate. There was nothing to think about. Well, there were actually plenty of things to think of. The man on the bridge. Bucky barely knew anything on him. Besides that he was a formidable fighter. If only Bucky could find him. Then he would be able to sort out this mess of memories. One particular memory kept replaying over and over in his head.

_He was with the man, but appeared smaller and thinner and sickly. What was the conversation about? Something about a death, Bucky was comforting him at this Steve's home as the homeowner searched for his house key. Bucky turned and found it on the ground, handing it to Tiny Steve. _

_"Thank you Buck, but I can get by on my own," Steve defended himself, staring up at Bucky._

_"The thing is, you don't have to. I'm with you till the end of the line, pal," then Bucky grabbed his shoulder._

That's all the Winter Soldier could remember. A sigh escaped his lips as he turned the knob that controlled the water. It shut off, trickling from the head. Bucky tugged off the plastic covering, letting it fall to the wet ground. He grasped the towel, careful not to let his clothing fall down, and began to dry off his body. Once done, he tossed it on the ground and grabbed his clothes. Due to their dirty state, the sergeant began to beat them out, trying his best to get rid of the things that had collected in the threads. It would do. He slipped the clothing and shoes on, then fitted his glove back onto his metal hand, grimacing at the torn fabric.

Bucky picked up his towel and soap, throwing the towel into a laundry basket and the soap into the trash. He walked out of the shower room, running his fingers through his still wet hair, combing it back. He decided to keep his cap off for now, not really needing it.

"I assume that you're finished showering?" the red head was back, her hands clasped together, giving Bucky an admiring look. The soldier nodded slowly, unsure as to why the girl was being so clingy.

"Well, are you going to stay?" Amy asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"I've got places to be," he responded, only to have a weird reaction from this girl. It seemed like she nearly melted just listening to his voice. Her big smile only grew bigger, showing off super white teeth. Bucky gave her a weird look then helped himself out of the stuffy place. Once out, the man put on his cap, puffing of his chest slightly. Maybe he could find that restaurant that Erin worked at. Bucky remembered the route.

So, once more, he set off in search of the La Ciudad. Buildings, buildings, and more buildings. Maybe finding it won't be so easy after all. He grimaced. Right, it would be nice to have a map. Or something made of electricity. Bucky crossed the street and straightened his back, acting confident. The man set forward, keeping his head down. Maybe if he just walked nonchalantly down the street, he might get somewhere. Or get lost. Whichever is better. Actually, there it was, just on Bucky's right. Across from the street. He didn't want to make himself look obsessive.

She was perfectly placed. Erin was serving two men inside of the restaurant. The timing couldn't have been better. The black haired girl looked up and her eyes latched onto Bucky. A smile lit up her face. She spoke a few words to her customers, then turned. Bucky assumed she was speaking to either Bella or Marcus. A small grin crept onto Bucky's face as he made his way over there. Sure, he had to dodge some cars and perhaps had a few close calls, but he made it over there in one piece. Erin pushed open the glass door and walked over to him, a skip in her step.

"Hey! Come back for more?" Erin gave a cute smirk as she waved him over to walk with her.

"I still have no money," Bucky responded.

"Psh. I'm sure I can persuade my boss to let you eat at least one sandwich. Come on," Erin pushed open the door to the La Ciudad. Very few people were in there. Three men sat at a booth, their jackets bulging slightly. Wasn't too hot for a jacket? Well, Bucky couldn't say anything about that. He adjusted his glove as Erin led him to the back again.

"Same thing as last night?" she asked. Bucky nodded and watched her leave, discreetly eyeing her fine _additional _woman parts. Once she disappeared out of view, Bucky surveyed the scene. It didn't look like a busy day, though it was still early in the morning. A few women sat at the table next to him, shooting him looks. The same three men in the booth spoke quietly over their food, glancing fervently at the clock. His green eyes flitted over to the clock on the wall. It read 11:29 A.M. The soldier slid into the chair, feeling a bit warm. Well, he did have a long sleeved shirt under this jacket. It won't show off his metal arm. So, the man took off his jacket. The shirt underneath was relatively clean and kindly showed off his muscled arms and chest. Then, he took off his cap, ruffling his long hair. It was practically dried now, but some wet hairs clung to the sides of his face. Bucky leaned back in his chair, draping an arm over the back of it, letting his metal arm rest on the table. Luckily, the glove managed to cover up most of the metal parts, so he didn't need to worry.

The group of women at the table stared at him, obviously admiring his attributes. Bucky noticed. His eyes blank, practically killing them with just a look. It was rather humorous to see women fret over how they looked. All of their faces reddened as they huddled around the tables, their voices hushed. Bucky shook his head and waited patiently for Erin. He saw Marcus slowly walk by, a towel slung over his shoulder. Their gazes met, causing Marcus to scowl pointedly and turn away. Finally, Erin appeared around the corner, a plate filled with the ultimate club in her hands. Though, she didn't appear too happy.

Once her eyes locked onto Bucky, it was like she was a schoolgirl. He saw her cheeks redden slightly. Shoulders tensed up, and she began to chew on her bottom lip, completely ogling him. Bucky smirked inwardly, slightly tilting his head forward, keeping his intense stare on her. Erin set his food down.

"Uh, here you go. Hope you uh, enjoy it," she stumbled through her sentences as she quickly walked off, leaving Bucky alone with his food. He sighed, a bit disappointed that she didn't even try to make conversation. Leaning forward, he picked up his sandwich, about to take a bite when suddenly a high pitched voice interrupted.

"Hey there! I assume your new here!" A women from the table slid into one of the chairs across from him, a huge grin on her face. She had blonde curly hair and a low-cut shirt, which Bucky really noticed as she leaned over the table. His eyes would occasionally glance down, but quickly reverted back to their original position.

The soldier stared at the girl, his face conveying no emotion. She took his blank stare as a cue to continue speaking to him.

"Well, I basically know everybody who walks into this place and since I haven't seen you here before, I assume that you're a new consumer," she replied, her blue eyes wide. Her face was a mask of make-up as she gawked at him.

Bucky shrugged, unintentionally catching the glare of Erin.

* * *

"Wow, that bitch," I muttered under my breath as I watched Kelly speak with Bucky, acting as if she were a queen. We used to go to high school together, and she usually comes into here to taunt me for working at a small business. Though, she liked to eat here, so I guess I win. Not like there was anything to win in the first place.

"Yeah, jeez, I'd hate anyone who'd hit on a hobo," Bella snorted as she passed me, holding dishes in her arms.

"I'm being serious, just LOOK at him" my voice was in a hushed tone, as if he could hear me. Bella scoffed and turned, doing a double take as she nearly tripped.

"Damn, boy," she gasped. That caught my attention.

"Wow. You never swear. Guess that he's that impressive looking. Though, he could do with a haircut," I tapped my chin, smirking at Bella. She grimaced and went to the kitchen. I turned my eyes back onto Bucky and saw Kelly holding his gloved hand. Which was actually weird that he wore only one glove. The way he was looking at her was hilarious and then not, because it was like he was about to murder her. The three men stood up, rolling their shoulders.

"Hey, Marcus! A customer needs you at the register, stat!" I called for my friend. He appeared from the kitchen, yawning.

"Yeah, hold on. I'm coming," he responded and went to the cashier, leaning on the counter as the customer stared at him and the clock. Bella went to collect the men's plates. One of the men stood near the booth, glancing at the clock while his other friend slowly walked to the restroom place. My eyes shifted towards Bucky. His body was stiff as sat there, his glove still being fiddled with by Kelly.

* * *

"By the way, I'm Kelly Lotus. Can I see your glove?" Bucky really had no choice as the girl leaned even further over the table, grabbing his metal hand. She fingered the glove, murmuring to herself.

"Why only one?" she asked, "Are you like a big fan of Michal Jackson?"

"Who?" Bucky asked, only to have Kelly gasp in surprise.

"You don't know who he is? He's the King of Pop!" Kelly exclaimed, eyes magnificently growing wider. Bucky scowled and pulled his hand away, feeling the glove loosen up a bit. A man passed Bucky, heading to the restroom. Bucky stiffened, eyes trailing the man's path. Quickly, he turned his attention over to the other man standing at the booth. Bella stood next to him, cleaning up the table. The other was at the cash register, being rang up by Marcus. The way they glanced at the clock seemed odd. Something wasn't right. And just like that, the man at the cash register pulled out a sock hat, shoving it over his head, his buddies doing the same. They all pulled out pistols, Glock17s to be exact. One grabbed Bella, pressing the gun to the side of her head. The one at the register had a gun to Marcus's face, a bag pulled out. The other just had a gun out, like he was a just in case person.

Bucky quickly stood up, muscles tensed for battle. His hands automatically and instinctively went to his hips, fingers searching for his lost weapons. The man aimed the gun on him, and trembling slightly.

"Hand over the money or Bob here will blow the girl's brains out," the man threatened. Marcus's face paled. Erin had her hands around her mouth, eyes wide. Bella had her eyes squeezed shut, tears threatening to drip down her cheeks.

Bucky growled and ran forth, ducking below the man's arm and plucking his gun right out of the man's hands. The man hollered, earning a punch to the face. With ease, Bucky spun around and aimed the gun right at Bob's head.

They were all idiots. The man Bucky had just taken out obviously showed that he was indeed new to this.

The man who had Bella widened his eyes at Bucky's speed. It had only taken him 6 seconds to retrieve the gun. He was terrified, and Bucky knew it. He kept his intense green eyes on Bob, knowing that he'd never be able to kill. The man who had his gun pointed at Marcus stared at Bucky, glancing back at Marcus. He growling, signaling for Marcus to put what money they had into the bag. The boy began to stuff the bag with the green cash, gritting his teeth.

"Ha, fucking amateurs. Even forgot the damn safety," Bucky actually chuckled, clicking off the safety. He made sure it was loaded as well. Erin stared at him, as if unsure on how to react. Bob shifted his weight, showing his teeth.

"I'll shoot her! I will" he attempted to threaten, his hand shaking.

"No you won't. Because I'll get to you first," Bucky took a step forward.

"You won't kill me," the man sighed, his eye twitching.

"I've done it before, and I can do it again," Bucky smirked. Just a few more seconds. Bucky concentrated on Bob's feet. Once Bob's foot was in view, Bucky aimed the Glock17 at his foot, shooting it with deadly precision. Bob screamed and pushed Bella away. She hit the floor, catching herself with her hands. Bob clutched at his foot, tears rolling down his cheeks. Bucky ran forward and jumped, his foot connecting with Bob's face at the same time. He lurched backwards, hit head hitting the ground hard. Bucky landed on the limp body and turned to take out the other man.

The thief quickly grabbed the bag now filled with money and quickly sought out something to protect his body with. And there was only one option. The thief pulled Erin in front of him, pressing his pistol against the side of her neck. The girl stiffened and tried to claw away from him, but was unsuccessful in her attempts. Bucky's eyes widened, gritting his teeth in worry as the robber dragged Erin towards the door, pushing the left glass door open with his back, spine pressed against the metal bar. Bile rose in his throat. He could only crouch there and watch. Then, he kicked Erin forward and away from him. Bucky leapt up like a cat and raced forward, dodging Erin. He pushed the left door open, but instead of letting go of the handle, he ripped it off with his metal arm, taking it with him.

His legs propelled him forward, the serum pumping through his body. The robber ran out into the highway, erratically dodging cars. Bucky followed him through the traffic. One car stopped right in front of him. What a joke. Bucky leapt up, running across the hood of it. The driver honked his horn, swearing loudly. Finally, they were back on the sidewalk. The robber was only a few yards away, pushing his way through a throng of people. Bucky surged forward and pulled his bionic arm backwards, narrowing his eyes in determination. Once he and the robber exited the crowd, Bucky's arm snapped forward, the metal bar flying from his hand and hitting the robber in the back. His hands flew up, the bag of money dropping heavily to the ground. The metal bar bounced off, hitting the ground with a loud clanging sound. Bucky leapt into the air once more and landed on the guy, his knees driving into his back, pushing the thief onto his stomach.

Bucky straddled him and turned him onto his back and began to ruin the man's face with anger infused punches. Over and over, Bucky only hit the man with his right arm while his left gripped the guy's collared shirt. It was a bit strange, that he was…so furious that this man had put innocent people in danger. He was a disgrace for attempting to hurt and steal from people. In no time, the man's face bruised up, swelling dramatically. A hand on Bucky's shoulder pulled him away. Reacting on instinct, the soldier twisted around, grabbing the arm that gripped him and twisted it, his metal hand squeezing the wrist.

"Agh, Bucky! It's me!" Marcus cried out. Quickly, Bucky let go of him, retracting his arm. He hissed as Marcus rubbed his arm, which must have been throbbing with pain.

"Dude, Rico called the police. Let's take this guy back to La Ciudad," he grunted and backed away from Bucky, a glimmer of mistrust in his eyes. He swiped up the bag.

"Right," the soldier murmured and stood up, heaving the robber over his shoulder. Marcus stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. They both trudged back, the police already at the restaurant. The women in there were sobbing and clinging to each other. Bella was hugging Rico. Erin was by herself, frequently rubbing her arms with her hands as if she were cold. Marcus rushed himself over to Bella, speaking kind words to her. A police officer approached Bucky, looking at him skeptically.

"Here's the other one," The Winter Soldier tossed the thief from his shoulder, his body hitting the ground.

"What the hell did you do to him?" the cop asked, his voice threaded with surprise.

"Not kill him," retorted Bucky as he jogged over to Erin. She looked up, relief etched into her pretty face. Her hands shook. Bucky stood there awkwardly, his eyebrows knitted together. Bucky didn't know what to do. He never dealt with crying people, especially crying women.

"Are you alright?" Bucky asked. Erin gave a dry laugh.

"Bella was the one who was nearly shot at," she meekly answered, refusing to cry. Bucky noted that. Erin bit her lower lip, rolling her shoulders to calm herself.

"You had a gun held to you as well. It's not a fun experience," Bucky shot back. Erin didn't respond, only hugged herself tighter. Bucky sighed.

"Bucky," it must have been Rico, since he was the only worker that Bucky hasn't met yet, "I want to discuss something with you."

"Yes, sir," he replied, turning away from Erin and towards Rico. Rico was a tad shorter than he was and had tanned skin.

"How would you like to work here? You absolutely deserve a job and not to mention you saved Erin and Bella and this restaurant! You can get started in a few days, once this ruckus is over. Do remember, you're going to pay for both the table and the handle (practically the entire door) so some money will come out of your paycheck for it," Rico shuffled his feet, giving an encouraging smile.

"I don't think I'm the best with socially interacting with other people, but I do accept your offer sir. I am grateful for it," Bucky softly smiled back, feeling the unfamiliar tug of it at his lips.

He was making progress.

* * *

**I have never heard of anyone robbing a restaurant (with a pistol, too?), but just go with it. **

**I had to re-edit this story because Bucky was getting a bit out of character and talking too much. Originally, he hugged Erin to comfort her, but then I really wondered if he would be that touchy...which he wouldn't, so.**

**Also, I do promise you that the next chapters will be humorous. I do apologize if you don't like the "drama" or "action" sequences, it really wasn't meant to be this way, I promise you that! So, for the next few chapters, it won't be ridiculously dramatic.**

**Also-also, I do apologize for updating on a Monday instead of the weekend. It's summer and I kind of lost track of the time. Please excuse any misspellings and errors and have a fantastic day/night, depending on where you are! Reviews are welcome and I would like to thank those who have followed and favorited my story! It really means a lot to me and pushes me forward.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Welcome to the New Age, I'm Bucky-o-active

June 9, 2014

Monday, 8:45 A.M.

I smoothed Bucky's new work clothes, smiling to myself. They were a simple light blue long sleeved shirt and black dress pants and a black tie to go along with it. It was nice to have a new co-worker. Plus, we gave a hobo a job. It wasn't something that often happened around here. After what Bucky did for us Friday, he deserved more than just a job. Somehow, we needed to get him an apartment. There's an empty one in my apartment complex, going as high as $200 a month. Pretty damn good, if you ask me.

Carefully placing his work clothes next to the register, I stood back, pulling a hair tie from my wrist. Gathering up my coal black hair, I tied it back with the pony-tail holder, wrapping it up again and again. Having thick hair meant that I didn't have to do that too much. I grabbed my iPod and ear buds, sticking them in my ears and shoving my music device into my pocket of my apron, cleaning off tables while I practically banged my head to Katy Perry's "Roar". Yeah, guess you could say that I'm pretty hard core. With a sigh, I grabbed a cloth and soaked it in water.

I wiped off the tables with my washcloth, as I usually did every morning. And as usual, once I had finished, every tabletop sparkled with cleanliness. I leaned against the counter that held the cash register, placing my hands on my hips.

"Nice work, as always," Rico buzzed around me, stretching, "Bucky will be arriving here soon, right?"

"Give him time," I yanked my ear buds out, pausing my music, "I'm sure he won't miss his first day."

"I love the fact that you put so much faith in him," Marcus popped up next to me, scaring me. I placed a hand on my chest, my heart rapidly beating.

"Stop scaring me like that!" I chided my friend and moved away from him, crossing my arms. He snickered.

"Ugh, I swear to God," I muttered. Bella walked out of the kitchen, a towel in her hands.

"Be careful Marcus. Erin might just one day get the courage to take you down," she smirked and stopped, her smirk disappearing, "Oh, look. _It's him_."

I turned towards the door (which wasn't quite fixed, considering the damage that Bucky had done to the handle) and saw Bucky the Hobo. Well, he wasn't at the door, but he was walking to it. Someone had to let him in, which I quickly offered myself up for the job. I hopped over to the door and pushed it open for him, giving a smile.

"Good day Sir, I'm sure that you're ready to start your new job as a waiter?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. He stared at me with those intense eyes, giving a small shrug. A smile lit up my face as I guided him over to the register, grabbing his clothes and shoving them in his arms.

"Go to the restroom and change in those. Also, you'll need to pull your hair back. Here," I yanked the last hair tie off of my wrist, glancing up at him.

"You know how to work a ponytail holder, right?" Bucky sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I'm sure I can figure it out," he took it away from him, giving me a look. I smiled once more and waved him off to the restroom. Marcus sighed behind me, placing a hand on his forehead.

"I'm assuming that you guys want me to take up the role of teaching him, right?" my dark colored friend sighed, running his hand down his face.

"Well, actually, I was gonna take up the honor, but since you offered, sure! You guys need to bond for a bit, anyways," I stretched my arms over my head, watching Marcus's jaw drop. He stumbled over his words in astonishment. Bella and I both laughed. The door to the men's restroom creaked open, Bucky exiting from it. He looked damn fine in those clothes, let me tell you. His hair was loosely tied back, reminding me of one of those hipsters, minus the scarf, beanie, and glasses. Yet, Bucky still insisted to wear that single black glove of his. There must be some embarrassing sort of scar on his hand. He was adjusting his tie, which actually surprised me. It didn't seem like someone like him would know how to even put a tie on.

"I'm astonished that you knew how to get the tie on. Usually, Marcus always needs help," I glanced at my friend, earning a scowl from him.

"Well, we grew up in different places," Bucky responded gruffly, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"I grew up in a small but secluded neighborhood in good ole Florida," Marcus sneered at Bucky, "At least we didn't have any crime in our neighborhood."

Bucky gave Marcus a bewildered look, glancing at me.

"Hey, I don't even think Bucky was saying that something was wrong with your neighborhood, Marcus. He was just stating that you two grew up in different places," I pressed my lips together as Marcus shot me a glare. He was acting very strange today. Rico had moved back to the kitchen, as we all heard the sink running. I glanced at the clock. 8:59. Opening was at 9.

"Alright guys. Marcus, make sure to stay on top of Bucky. Opening time, guys," I clapped my hands together and hustled over to the door, unlocking it and flipped the sign from CLOSED to OPEN. In only fifteen minutes, we had customers strolling in, in search of food. I looked to Marcus and gave him a smile as he edged towards Bucky, giving him a glare.

* * *

Bucky snarled quietly to himself. Marcus? Really? Of all people that could have helped him, Erin chose Marcus. The entire time Bucky had been here (only a few minutes) Marcus had been rude to him.

"Alright, just be nice to the customers, welcome them. Come to the front desk, ask how many, look at this thing," Marcus grabbed the layout of the restaurant, holding it up for Bucky to see. The surface of it was shiny. It was meant for writing on with a dry eraser marker. Bucky glanced at it, memorized it, then turned his attention back onto Marcus.

"Right, so then, ask the customer if they want a booth or table. If they respond with booth, find an empty booth (that's the rectangle shapes) and mark it off, then lead them to the table. Once done, wait for them to sit down and then ask what they would like to drink. Then, go back to the kitchen and ask Bella about the drinks. She'll help you with that. After that, bring the customers their drinks and ask if they are ready to order. If yes, write down their orders on this notepad. If no, just say 'alrighty then' or whatever you prefer and leave them for a good ten minutes. Got it?" Marcus sighed, as if he used too much oxygen. Bucky slowly nodded.

"Good. There's a group of women over at the door. Greet them with a smile. Go get 'em tiger!" Marcus snickered as Bucky gritted his teeth, nearly rolling his eyes.

Bucky didn't like this. His clothes were a bit tight. It was as if they weren't sure of the size and just grabbed whatever size he looked like. Still, it fit him and the clothing was clean, so, who was he to complain? His pants felt a bit…clingy to his legs and _other_ places. His shirt certainly showed off his "curves" and arms, which also made him uncomfortable. Bucky was just glad that the sleeves didn't show off his metal arm or allow it to show through the cloth. He was worried about his Russian red star on his arm. Was it too brightly colored, enough to show through the lightly colored shirt? Lucky for him. None of the metal or even the star shown through.

The brunet stepped up to the group of women that Marcus had directed him to. He opened his mouth, struggling to even attempt at smiling.

"Welcome to this fine establishment-"

"Yeah, we'd like a table for three," one of the women interrupted him, jutting her hip out. Sassy. She eyed Bucky, clearly checking him out as she raked her green gaze over his body. Never had Bucky wished for his gear equipment to cover himself up. He felt _naked_ without his black leather jacket and mask and goggles. Besides, he was for certain that their eyes went everywhere except for his face. Seeing that the place was kind of empty, Bucky just led them to a table. Once the girls arrived at the table, Bucky subconsciously pulled out a chair for one of them to sit in.

"I don't whether that would be weird or gentlemanly. Thanks, I guess," one of the girls plopped into the chair, eyeing the man. A bewildered look settled on his face. What had caused him to do that? Obviously, something in his mind had been triggered. What could it have been?

"Er, drinks?" Bucky awkwardly asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

"We will all have sweet tea, thanks," one of the girls requested, winking at the waiter. Bucky stiffened, rushing himself into the kitchen where Rico was cooking God knows what, and Bella was filling this strange machine that had colorful words displayed on small sections of it, the word "COCA COLA" plastered along the front. Bella turned, jumping backwards as she saw Bucky.

"Oh Jesus, give me some warning. Scuff your feet across the floor or something," she held a hand over her heart. The assassin stood there calmly, waiting for her to come down from her scare. Finally, the little blonde put her hand on her hip, tapping her foot, brown eyes narrowed.

"What do you need?" her voice didn't sound very friendly. Then again, Bucky was just a sad trash hobo. Of course he couldn't expect Bella to be fond of him, unlike Erin. Though, every once in a while (though, she'd never admit it) he'd catch her staring in his direction. He was curious as to why.

"Marcus told me that you could help me with drinks," Bucky stated, crossing his arms. Bella nodded, seeming reluctant to do the job though. She knocked on the colorful machine with the bottom of her fist.

"Alright, so this is the Soda machine. It distributes…well, soda. And water, plus ice. Everything is practically labeled and I think you pretty much know how to work one, right?" Bella nodded shortly, not even bothering to let Bucky answer her question. He opened his mouth, but quickly snapped it shut, a scowl present on his face.

"Now, if a customer asks for tea, you have two options. Sweet and unsweetened tea. The tea is held in these two giant jugs," Bella sidestepped, her hand gesturing to the two jugs side by side. One had a pretty picture of the brown liquid with ice in it, the words "Sweet Tea" clearly printed on it. It was the same with the other, except it said unsweetened tea.

"Cups are here," Bella pointed to clear glasses stacked over each other. Bucky nodded, feeling as if he was being treated like a child. He grabbed three glasses, casually walking over to the soda machine and pressing it under the tunnel for the ice to come out. Like magic, ice cubes fell out and into the glass, making clinking sounds. Once, he filled all of the glasses with a few ice cubes, he hustled over to the sweet tea jugs and pushed one under the tap like thing attached to the jug. A stick jutted out; most likely it was the thing that made the liquid run. So, he pushed down on that, watching in slight awe as the tea streamed down into the glass. After a few minutes or so, all three had been filled with iced sweet tea. Not really surprisingly, Bucky balanced the glass, actually just holding them against his body as he hurried back to the table, setting the drinks down in front of the three women. Bucky stood there for a moment until he suddenly remembered to take their orders. The assassin pulled out the notepad and pen from his apron pocket, feeling absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you ready…to uh, order?" The Winter Soldier asked, his voice quiet. The group of females giggled, glancing at one another. One with red hair piped up.

"I would like the mushroom soup, please," she requested, hunching her shoulders up as she shoved her lightly freckled hands into her lap. Bucky nodded and uncapped the pen, hesitating slightly. He knew how to write, right? Of course he did, even on missions, the assassin had to write some things down for others. He quickly scribbled down the order, cringing at his horribly messy handwriting.

"I would like the cheesecake-ouch!" a blonde female squeaked as her friend elbowed her roughly. Bucky tensed only for a second, the thought of someone in danger flashing in his mind. But, he forced himself to relax and patiently waited, tempted to roll his eyes.

"Are you WANTING to throw away that body you worked for? We would like a Caesar Salad," a brunette snapped at her friend. Bucky wrote that information down and walked off, going into the kitchen. Erin was in there, speaking with Bella about something Her back was turned from Bucky, but Bella was able to spot him.

"Ha! Thought you would get the jump on me again, didn't you?" Bella pointed her index finger at the Sergeant, her eyes narrowed. Erin turned, a smile meeting Bucky. He glanced down at the notepad, opening his mouth to say something.

"Customer's order? Here, gimme that," Erin bounced over to him, snatching the notepad away from his hands. She wasn't quick, nor was she slow. Her eyes scanned the piece of paper quickly, noting what had been ordered. Her head slowly bounced forward, nodding.

"Okay, got it. I'll be back," she headed towards Rico's work station and disappeared. Bella glanced at Bucky, her brown eyes scorching him with judgment.

"Back to work, Bucky-o," she snapped, stepping beside him, pushing her small hand against his shoulder. Bucky couldn't help but chuckle when the smaller person attempted to move him with no success. Bella dropped her arm, glaring at him. Finally, after a few minutes of staring and glaring, Bucky turned, nearly causing Bella to fall.

"Hey Bucky! C'mere!" Erin called out to him, bringing him to her. She held two plates, one bowl; two were the salads and the soup. She shoved the food towards him. Bucky luckily balanced them all, precariously tipping on the edges of his forearms. Fortunately, he made it back to the table. He set the plates down, not even letting a smile break his calm composure. His attuned ears picked up the rattling of plates. Even before the event happened, Bucky was already on his toes.

Erin was near him, but quite literally had too much on her plate. Of course she would trip over her own foot. Bucky darted forward, catching Erin with his right arm, his metal arm heroically seizing the empty plates with just the flat of his palm. Bucky's knees were bent drastically, for, he had to reach over to save Erin from smashing her face into the ground. The girl's hands clutched Bucky's arm and shirt, her eyes locked on the soldier. Bucky felt her intense gaze on his face and turned his attention on her, dark green colors meeting deep blue. It felt like someone had rammed their fist down Bucky's throat; he couldn't say anything. Instead, he slowly rose, the empty plates in one hand, Erin in the other. The Winter Soldier pulled his bionic arm in, pushing the plates between the two. Erin's eyes quickly tore away from him, her hands wrapping around the dishes.

"You dropped these," a small smile formed on Bucky's face as Erin giggled, holding in laughter. The black haired girl held the plates close to her chest, grinning from ear to ear.

"You're a good catch," she complimented. For a few moments, the two just stood there, staring at each other until Erin's cheeks reddened deeply. Bucky blinked, realizing how close he and the girl were. Heat involuntarily rushed to his face. She took an awkward step back, chuckling nervously.

"Thanks," Bucky let a smirk grow on his face, shaking his head slowly. He glanced behind Erin, seeing Marcus standing a good few feet away. He had something in his hands. It seemed to be a glass. Marcus smirked deviously and poised his arm back, aiming.

"Booker, catch!" he yelled and flung the glass towards Bucky. Except, it was accidentally hurled at Erin. Bucky pushed himself forward, sliding against Erin's side. With his human arm, the assassin caught it with ease, but cast an angry look at Marcus. The customers awed in delight and amazement as Bucky marched over to the dark skinned waiter, roughly gripping Marcus's arm. He grunted as the Sergeant drug him into the kitchen and flung him in front of him.

"Ouch, what was that for?" Marcus moaned, rubbing his arm. He stared at Bucky with malicious eyes.

"You know what," Bucky growled, green eyes narrowed. Marcus crossed his arms, approaching Bucky until they were chest to chest. Bucky was only an inch taller than Marcus as they stared each other, eye to eye. The Winter Soldier's fists clenched together, his arms flexing. The metal plates on his bionic arm adjusted, shifting to fit his posture. They only make a slight sound, but were otherwise silent.

"Hey!" Erin pushed her way through the kitchen and put a hand on both Marcus and Bucky, feebly attempting to push them away from each other. She glanced at Marcus, turning her attention to him.

"Calm down, Eren Jäger," she whispered angrily to her friend. He shifted his gaze to her, relaxing his tense shoulders and held up his hands in mock defeat.

"Okay. I'll be the man here," he sighed and backed off, turning away and heading out. Erin nodded sharply, then scowled.

"You can't let him get to you, you oversensitive baseball player," she joked, putting her hands on her hips. Bucky looked away, as if he was a puppy refusing to look into his disappointed owner's eyes. Erin exhaled deeply, walking off. Bucky followed.

Marcus was manning the cash register. The three women that Bucky had served were already done with their meals and were paying up front. The brunette stared seductively at him (or what she thought was seductive), motioning for him to come closer. Bucky took a step forward and stopped, a bit confused as to why she wanted him. She leaned over the counter.

"Hey, sweetums. What's your number?" she asked. Number? What did she mean by number? There was only one number that came to Bucky's mind and he was sure that this woman didn't want it. It was a shot in the dark though, so he took it.

"107th," he replied before stopping. A sharp pain throbbed in his head, near his temples. Bucky leaned against the wall, a hand against his forehead as a memory resurfaced into his mind.

_It was dark, the field only lit by explosions. Bucky adjusted the helmet that loosely fit on his head, sweating dripping down the back of his neck. Dirt was smeared all over his face and body, some of it wiped away by his perspiration. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107__th__ clutched his M1 Garand Rifle to his chest, his knuckles turning white from his tight grip. _

_He was terrified, but strangely relieved. The thought of Steve being back at home, safe from war comforted Bucky. Poor tiny Steve, who would be sick every other day. The military refused to accept such an underqualified person. Bucky was glad for it, though. He wouldn't be able to watch after his best friend in war._

_A grenade near Bucky exploded, flinging the soldier backwards and onto his rump. He groaned, quickly scrambling up. Damn it. He needed to be more careful, especially if he wanted to avoid death and come back home to his girl and to his friend._

"Hey, Bucky! Are you alright?" Erin held up the ex-soldier, her brow creased with worry. Bucky panted, his human arm draped over the girl, metal hand propping himself up on the wall. It felt like years had passed. Bucky rubbed his forehead, grimacing painfully.

"Uh, yeah," he gritted his teeth, leaning his side against the wall. Erin stared at him, slowly releasing him and backing away cautiously, as if he could fall over and break like a china doll.

"Why don't you take a break?" Erin suggested, guiding Bucky over to the table in which he first sat at. The soldier took a seat and loosened his tie, desperately wishing to roll up his sleeves to cool off a bit. Instead, he just fiddled with the glove that covered his metal hand.

The memory that he had had to have been triggered by something. He racked his brain for small pieces of information. Maybe it had something to do with what his said. 107th. That was his military unit, the one that he had been captured with. Bucky groaned, rubbing his chin. Another question was why did the memory hurt? Was it because he had been out of Cyro Freeze for too long? Bucky shuddered at the faint memory of Alexander Pierce ordering the men around him to wipe him.

* * *

I grimaced as I left Bucky alone to his thoughts, curious as to why he seemed so in pain. I mean, I have headaches every once in a while, but nothing as extreme as that. He was still a stranger to me, to all of us. I could have put all of us in potential danger. Oh well, we're not dead yet.

"Hey," Bella approached me with a small smile. I nodded to her and was about to say something until we were interrupted by a new customer.

She had short and wavy black hair that touched the right side of her cheekbone. Her left side had been completely shaved. Her ears were pierced and had snakebite piercings on her lip. The girl wore a dark gray jacket that ended at her waist, a black tank top under it. She also wore black torn skinny jeans and combat boots. Bella stiffened, her eyes widening. Cold blue eyes constantly shifted around.

"I got this one," she replied robotically, moving forward slowly as if in a trance. She greeted the customer shyly, causing the girl to laugh.

"H-Hello, welcome to La Ciudad. W-would you like a seat?" Bella asked, barely meeting the taller girl's gaze. She was lean and looked like she's been though some shit. But the way she looked down at Bella wasn't a demeaning look. I couldn't quite tell what the look was, so I just sat back to watch. Bella led the girl to a booth, waiting for her to sit down. The girl stared at Bella for a moment, cocking her head to the side.

"What' your name?" her voice sounded boyish and gruff, but it fit her. Bella's big brown eyes snapped up to the girl's, her mouth gaping for a few seconds before response.

"It's uh, Bella. Bella Quartz," she replied meekly, her eyes darting around.

"Skylar Mass," the girl nodded, sitting down, keeping watch on Bella. I shook my head, wondering what got into the little blonde.

The day went by pretty fast and suddenly, it was closing time. We shut down everything except for the lights, babbling about customers and stupid things. We had all changed out of our work clothes and slipped on the casual wear that we had all brought. Then, after locking the door and turning out the lights, everybody shuffled outside into the chilly June air. Bucky was hanging back, obviously not sure on how to act around our social bubble. So, I drifted back, joining Bucky. He glanced at me, the corners of his lips twitching.

"How was your first day?" I asked, smiling encouragingly.

"Okay, I guess," he shrugged. Bucky had a few customers that he had helped out, most likely giving him enough experience of what the job would be like for the rest of the time he was here.

"You'll get your paycheck at the end of the week. It won't be much right now, but if you save up enough, you'll be able to actually buy something," I explained and patted his arm, "So, I'm assuming that you found a homeless shelter, already?"

"Yeah," his responses weren't elaborate, but I was still satisfied with them. So, I left him with a smile.

"Well, goodnight all. This is where I get off," I saluted them and turned away, receiving the goodbyes of Marcus, Bella, and Rico. As I was walking to my car, goose bumps rose along my arms, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. I felt as if I was being watched. So, I ducked my head and rushed myself to my car, quickly unlocking it and slipping into it. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I rested my head against the headrest, still feeling…vulnerable. I started up my car and drove my way back to my apartment, completely exhausted.

* * *

**Not my best chapter, and it took forever to squeeze out (mainly because it isn't as exciting), but it does set up new characters and the main plot. Bucky in an apron seems really ridiculous. Also, this was a really awkward spot to leave it on.**

**Pardon my mistakes, if there are any. Please review, because I love reading reviews. Follow and favorite as well, and good day/night to you all! I appreciate the views, followings, favorites, and reviews that you've given me!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Turn Down for Buck

June 20, 2014

Friday, 9:00 P.M.

It had been over a week since Bucky started to work at the La Ciudad. He stayed quiet for his job, only asking questions when appropriate and getting stares from the ladies. Not like he really noticed, anyways. He would keep his mind and opinions to himself, watching the new world around him work. Some objects or ideas of the new world fascinated him, whilst others just disappointed him on how un-advanced certain machines were. Though, Bucky never complained. He was just a bit grateful for the new instruments of delicious outcomes.

Sometimes, faint memories of who he used to be would slip into his brain, giving him slight headaches from time to time. At least it wasn't as intense as the first one he had. Bella and Marcus went on like they didn't even give a damn if he died or not. Even though Bucky wouldn't doubt if they actually didn't care if he kicked the bucket.

It was closing time (they always closed early for Fridays), which meant that everybody was cleaning up. Erin and Bucky were wiping down the tables and chairs, Bella was washing dishes, Marcus was restocking the condiments, and Rico was cleaning up the kitchen. Everybody was tired after a busy and hard day at the restaurant. After they would close, Bucky would usually go back to the homeless shelter, either sleeping on a hard cot or the hard ground. No matter what, he always felt tired and dead in the morning. Soon, in about a month or so, he'd be able to get his own apartment.

"Hey, so who wants to go out for some drinks?" Marcus suddenly piped up, glancing around expectantly.

"Where?" Erin asked, her mind seeming elsewhere. Bucky kept his eyes on the table he was working on, tirelessly scrubbing at a soup smear with his rag.

"At a children's museum," Marcus said loudly, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. He stared at Erin like she was insane, propping his arm up with a hand on the hip. Erin straightened up, glaring dangerously at her co-worker.

"It'd be nice to get a straight answer. Do you mean a bar, a club…hell, I wouldn't doubt if you were being serious about going to a museum."

"Alder's Pub," the response was a grumble, barely intelligible. Erin sighed, brushing her black hair away from her face.

"You mean that one place with all of those creepy guys and fights and terrifying alleyway?" she hissed through gritted teeth, shooting Bucky a glance. He kept his eyes on his work, listening intently.

"Yes, that place. No worries, I'll protect you," Marcus said with a small smirk, cocking an eyebrow.

"Like you even can. No offense, but I don't think that you can hold off a dog."

"I may not be as fast as Bucky here, but I'm still just as good," Marcus defended himself, crossing his arms. The ghost of a smirk had been on Bucky's face as he glanced up at Marcus. Marcus caught his look and scowled.

"I'll go," Bella called out as she re-entered the main room, wiping her hands on her apron. Erin stared at Bella, exasperated.

"You've got to be kidding me. Fine! I'll go, too. Hey, Rico! Want to go to Alder's Pub with us?" Erin shouted, listening intently for her boss's response. He poked his head out of the kitchen, a faint smile on his face.

"Nah, I got a lady waiting for me back at the abode," he said, chuckling softly. Erin nodded awkwardly and turned to Bucky, giving a half hopeful smile.

"How about you, Buck? Feel up for a few drinks or so?" the girl asked, "I mean, you get a chance to see us get stupid. Besides, I'd love to see a drunk Bucky." The Winter Soldier nearly chuckled at that last comment. As if he could get wasted. His alcohol tolerance now permitted his head to stay clear, the contents not even fazing him.

"Not like I'm doing anything later," he shrugged.

"I just wish I had a different change of clothes," Erin muttered.

"Why's that? I think what you're wearing is fine; not like you want to look attractive in a place stuffed with '_weird_' men," Marcus yawned, stretching his arms. Erin widened her eyes, slightly tilting her head to the side.

"Um, excuse me? What if I really do want to look attractive? You know, to make myself feel better and gain some self esteem? Besides, if anything…it'd make me stand out a bit. I didn't realize we were going to go somewhere," she scoffed, earning a heavy sigh from Marcus.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm going to get changed," he threw his hands in the air, turning his back as he went to get his stuff out of the kitchen. Bucky glanced at Erin, expecting her to be fuming. Instead, she looked as calm as ever, casually finishing up the cleaning session. Marcus went into the men's restroom, obviously opting to change. Bucky tossed his rag back into the bucket, basically declaring that he was finished and went to get his clothing.

The Salvation Army (or at least Amy) had been kind enough to give him a new t-shirt, one that was long sleeved as he had requested. So, at least he had something clean to wear. They also washed whatever his owned, which he thought was a bit strange, especially when the enthusiastic redhead offered to do so. Not like Bucky really minded, anyway. It was nice of her to do something like that for him.

Thus, Bucky grabbed his bag full of his casual wear and went into the restroom as well, picking a stall. Once the door was locked, he pulled out a dark gray long sleeved v-neck. It had darker gray stripes horizontally running across it. It looked a bit expensive, but Amy insisted that it was on sale. Oh well. He stripped off his shirt, pulling the new shirt over his head, his small ponytail kind of getting in the way. Bucky really needed a haircut. He put that on his small list of priorities once he earned enough money. He tugged off the rest of his clothing, replacing it with his hobo clothes. Then, he fixed his little ponytail, pulling to brown hair back once more. Bella had once remarked that he looked like a hipster artist. Just add some glassed and a scarf…

Once he was finished, he met Bella, Erin and Marcus in the main room, already dressed and ready to go.

Bella was wearing a plaid shirt, the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons unbuttoned. It was a nice light bluish-gray color, reminding Bucky of denim. She had a small gray scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, her blonde hair tied back. She wore dark colored Capri's with sneakers. Her purse was slung over her arm.

Marcus wore a dark green jacket with no hood, just a large collar and four pockets, two breast pockets, two at the ends on the jacket. He wore a white t-shirt underneath of it, the words incoherent to Bucky. Probably something religious or spiritual. Marcus had also donned ripped dark jeans, causing Bucky to cringe. Was that really the fashion these days? When Bucky was himself, they always wore nice pants, nice shirts, and combed their hair. Now-a-days, it seemed as if looking messy and unable to take care of one's jeans was what was "in". It disgusted Bucky, to a point. But, fashion was fashion, and Bucky couldn't do a damn thing to change it.

Lastly, Erin wore a normal black v-neck t-shirt with short sleeves. She wore light blue skinny jeans with black colored flats, also carrying a small purse. The shirt slightly clung to her, making Bucky's eyes wander. Though, he kept his staring discreet. He also noticed that for the first time Bucky had known her, Erin had let her pretty black hair down, free from its confinements. The ends stopped at mid-shoulder blade, cut in a straight line. Her side bangs were brushed out of her blue eyes, framing her face. Bucky swallowed uncomfortably, turning his head to avoid having to look at her.

"Alright, ready guys?" Marcus asked, giving a bright and excited smile for the night ahead of them. Bella and Erin nodded, glancing at each other in uncertainty. The group of young adults headed out the doors, Bucky staying behind them, his eyes shifting constantly, searching the dark for signs of danger. The roads/sidewalks were dimly lit by streetlights. The night was warm, unlike other nights had been. They didn't really need their jackets, but still wore them for convenience.

Alder's Pub wasn't too far away; it was in walking distance, so maybe just a few blocks away. The outside looked modern, but the sign seemed a bit…strange. In large jagged neon letters, the words "Alder's Pub" was above a picture of a snake. Bella arched her neck slightly, her body language stating that she was confused.

"I think they meant to name this place _Adder's_ Pub, not Alder's," she inquired, obviously holding back her laughter.

Marcus went to the door, grasping the handle and held it open for Bella and Erin. Once they were inside, he let go of the door, seemly "forgetting" Bucky. The assassin scowled, opening the door for himself, automatically thrusted into an atmosphere of sweat and alcohol. Men and women crawled everywhere in the place. It was dark, with sleek and modern furniture placed along the walls. Smaller round tables were in the middle of the bar, covered with drunken people. The bar was up front, a few people had collected along it like flies. Everything was nearly black or gray, giving it such a dark air to it. A few neon signs decorated the place, giving some light. Marcus chose the table next to a window, sitting at the far end. Erin sat next to him, putting her purse in her lap. Bella sat on the inside; meaning Bucky had to sit next to her. Once she realized that she had been forced next to the hobo, she grimaced, clearly upset.

"God, this place would have been perfect for me when I was a teenager," Bella commented, attracting a few looks from her friends.

"You…liked dark stuff?" Marcus awkwardly asked, obviously unsure on how to word it.

"I wasn't emo or anything…more of a scene," the tiny girl mused, smirking to herself. Bucky had no idea what these words were, nor did he really care. He kept his attention on the people around him, who were either drunkenly dancing or grossly flirting. They kept on with their conversation, disbelieve threaded in their voices. Bucky began to subconsciously fiddle with his glove, picking at the fingers. His hands were under the table, making it impossible for the others to see. He felt oddly uncomfortable here, in this hot and foul smelling place. How did the others not notice how awful this place was?

"Hey, Earth to Bucky!" Marcus snapped his fingers in front of Bucky's face, making the assassin's cold eyes shift to the younger man. He pressed his lips in a thin line, swallowing.

"He asked you a question," Erin helped, staring at the tabletop, which was surprisingly gray, "He asked about your life." Bucky paused. What would he know about his life? If anything, he knew that it wasn't with these people. Or in this place. He had some other place to be, but his mind was mush. Blond hair, blue eyes kept popping up in his head. Yet, the face wasn't there. Bucky didn't know how to answer Marcus's question, so he just stared at him blankly.

"Okay, then. Ya know, we still don't know your full name. Got anything else besides just Bucky? Perhaps, a last name?" the dark skinned man inquired, propping his elbows on the table. Bucky leaned back. There was one name he had. Did he really trust this group as to tell them who he was-or who he thought he was? It didn't feel right, at least with Bella and Marcus there.

"Just Bucky," he forced out, grimacing at the looks of disappoint he received.

"Fine, be like that. Hey, let me get us some beers," Marcus responded, the tone of his voice a bit offensive. Erin scooted her chair in, allowing Marcus to pass behind her. Bucky's gaze trailed after him, confirming of where the man was heading (which was to the bar). Marcus leaned against it, striking up a conversation with some girl.

"Excuse me ladies, is this seat taken?" some man's deep voice cut into the small conversation Bella and Erin were having. They all glanced up to see a nicely tanned man with chestnut colored hair and hazel eyes. He wore a cheap suit, obviously something he quickly threw on. The man glanced at Bucky, pulling back a bit once he saw the threatening scowl on the hobo's face.

"Well, you're definitely not a lady," he muttered under his breath as he slid into Marcus's previous seat, leaning into the table. Bucky narrowed his green eyes at the stranger, automatically marking him as dangerous.

"Call me Jaime," he smirked, placing his forearm flat onto the tabletop.

"Lannister? Oh God, I hope you don't have a sister," Erin chuckled, earning a good laugh from Bella. Bucky didn't understand what had been so funny about what she had said. Jaime's mouth twitched, attempting to be discreet about his annoyance.

"No, Creston," he grumbled. The assassin watched this Jaime character closely, studying each feature of him. A small scar faintly indented the skin above his eyebrow. His hands also looked rough and calloused, like he worked on vehicles or machines. The man didn't look too heavily built, but Bucky still labeled him as a target in the future.

"So, uh, little lady, how about you and me have a good time?" Jaime leaned closer to Erin, causing her to lean away from him. Bucky's muscles tensed, readying his body for action. Erin's face relaxed into an expression that Bucky hadn't seen for at least two weeks. It was the face that she had used the day they had met. Cool, calm, and collected. It was like it was a second mask for her to wear. Her blue eyes bore straight into Jaime's, being sure that she was being direct.

"I have no interest in you, so leave us be, Mr. Creston," she evenly stated, keeping eye contact. Jaime's eyes darted towards Bucky, narrowing slightly.

"Oh come on-" Jaime leaned forward even more, this time aiming to wrap his arm around Erin's shoulders. Before he could even touch a cell on her body, he was interrupted by an ear screeching sound. Bucky had stood up, forced the chair to scratch violently against the ground. Jaime stood up as well, placing closed fists on the table, a smirk evident on his face. He was slightly taller than Bucky was. Slightly.

"Heeeey, Bucky, calm down," the familiar voice of Marcus sounded behind him as his co-worker threw an arm around the assassin's shoulder, persisting that they looked like friends. Bucky gave Marcus a bewildered look, shrugging the man's arm off of him. An awkward silence befell the group, glancing at each other. Jaime stared at Bucky, most importantly, his arms. Bucky's eyes shifted down to his clothing, knowing that what he was wearing showed nothing about his arm. This Jaime character knew something about Bucky, and he didn't like it. Reluctantly, the Winter Soldier descended back into his seat, not taking his intense green eyes off of the man.

"Now, that is my seat that you've taken, so I suggest that you get out of it," Marcus jerked his thumb behind him, furrowing his eyebrows. Jaime scowled and scooted his way out of the table, brushing Erin's hair as he passed. She didn't flinch, but her eyes made it visible that she clearly did not appreciate being touched. Marcus slid back into his seat, plopping 4 Bud Lights down onto the table.

"I didn't know you could get the bottle itself," Bella stated, grabbing one for herself.

"Only if you ask," Marcus responded and passed one to Bucky and Erin. Erin immediately attempted to open hers, clearly having trouble doing so. In fact, it seemed as if they all had trouble opening their drinks. Bucky merely gripped his drink with his human hand, easily popping the cap off with his metal thumb. Everybody at the table gawked at him until Bella nudged the man with her drink, implying for him to open it. Basically, the feared Winter Soldier had been reduced to a beer opener.

Everybody took a swig, Bucky being the only one to slightly screw up his face in disgust. This wasn't anything like what he used to drink. His head throbbed as a memory of singing men barged in, tossing their drinks around. The assassin groaned, rubbing his forehead with his right hand, sighing inwardly.

"So, who was that guy," Marcus asked, attempting to make idle conversation. Erin set her drink down, pursing her lips.

"Some creep. Goes by the name Jaime Creston. He kept looking at Bucky while failing to 'charm' me. Ugh," Erin muttered, placing her elbow on the table and leaning her cheek into her hand.

"Those two were like dogs," Bella licked her tongue, shaking her head, "Though; I do wonder why he was staring at Bucky like that. Did you know him?"

Bucky shook his head, trying to decipher why this particular stranger had chosen to stare at him for so long. Green eyes swept the place, unable to find Jaime. Damn, he was good. Usually, Bucky was able to deftly find his targets in a crowd. Whoever this man was, he had some sort of training.

"Whatever. Not like he knows your name. Well, except for Bucky's, but I really doubt that he's interested in him like that," Bella shrugged, giving a lazy smile.

* * *

"I suppose so…" I groaned, running my fingers through my hair, cringing at the thought of the dude touching it. A shiver ran down my spine as I took another sip of my alcoholic beverage. Marcus and Bella were downing their drinks, making me chuckle softly. I snuck a glance over at Bucky, seeing how agitated he looked. He kept looking around, as if searching for something.

I leaned back in my chair, not really listening to Bella or Marcus as they rambled on about some show that they watch that involved some gay angel. Instead, my thoughts wandered elsewhere. What did that guy want and why as he looking so intently at Bucky? Was it because he was a threat…or he knew him? Bucky didn't seem to recall him, but then again, the poor hobo always looked a bit lost, if not like he wanted to murder us all.

A few hours passed and the crowd thinned out. Marcus yawned. A few bottles littered the table

"I think I'm ready to leave. What about you guys?"

"I have a headache," Bella whined.

* * *

Bucky scoffed. _You have a headache? How funny, _he thought, glancing at the little blonde. Everybody stood up at the same time, shuffling out of the crowded place. Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets, lowering his eyes to the ground as Erin linked arms with Bella as the trio happily conversed about movies they'd like to see. It would have been relaxing for the ex-soldier, if not for the other people. Erin turned around, her black hair framing her face as she smiled lazily at Bucky. Her cheeks were lightly tinged pink, giving away the fact that she was slightly buzzed. Her blue eyes sparkled with delight as she simply stared at the man. The corners of Bucky's mouth turned up slightly, a small smile forming. Erin's eyes shifted, suddenly locked onto something behind Bucky. Or someone.

The sergeant noticed the subtle change in Erin as her face fell the longer she stared at whatever she was looking at before turning back to her conversation with Bella (who had just harassed Marcus instead). Bucky discreetly turned his head, catching chestnut colored hair and a cheap looking suit out of the corner of his eye. Jaime. A scowl made its way onto Bucky's face as he turned his face forward again. He kept his head down, but his ears and eyes open. Once the group got out of the bar, they took a sharp left, heading back to La Ciudad. Marcus raised his arms, stretching. The night was cool, almost relaxing as the group continued walking down the street. Few people passed by, one looking rather familiar as she passed. That's when Marcus cried out.

Some burly man grabbed him by the neck, slinging him into the alleyway. Bucky automatically went into action, the plates on his metal arm adjusted for the scenario. The same burly guy that had thrown Marcus grabbed Bella, pushing her into a headlock, muffling her cries for help with his large hand. Erin jumped back, startled greatly until someone had her too, one arm around her neck, the other trailing down her body. Bucky's eyes widened in fury as he saw Jaime's face poke out beside Erin's head, obviously making himself shorter to get a whiff of her hair. Bucky's stomach twisted as he moved forward. Marcus groaned, lifting himself up and onto his feet.

"Not very smart to turn me down," Jaime chuckled darkly as his hand roamed Erin's body. She struggled, looking as if she was about to vomit. Bucky glanced at Marcus, giving him a short nod before charging Jaime. Marcus did the same for the man who held Bella. Jaime laughed and pulled up a handgun, his finger already on the trigger. Bucky ducked and leaned left, grapping the sicko's wrist and twisting it, taking the handgun away from him. While Jaime was distracted, Erin struggled against his hold until she finally lifted her foot and brought it down on Jaime's toes, ripping a scream of pain and anger from him. She was able to twist away, allowing Bucky to finish the job. Well, almost. He grabbed Jaime's collar and smashed his human fist into his shit eating face. Jaime fell onto his back, grabbing at Bucky's gloved metal hand. He clawed at it to release him, pulling a good amount of the glove away until it was practically dangling from his fingers. His hazel eyed widened as he stared at the hand, then brought his gaze of fear to Bucky's face.

"The Winter Soldier," his words shocked Bucky, making him pause. How did he know? Then, the man opened his mouth and passed his tongue across his teeth, picking one loose. He crunched down on the fake tooth, foam filling his mouth.

"Hail…Hydra!" he sputtered before his entire body went limp. Bucky dropped him, stumbling off of the man. Erin moved forward as Bucky fell to his knees, his head hurting immensely as another memory ensued. Why now, of all times?

_The sounds of Brooklyn passed Bucky as he adjusted his military cap and smoothed his dark green clothing down. He held the newspaper in his hands, unable to tell Steve that he got himself and his friend a date. He was just passing by the theater until he heard the sounds of someone getting hurt. Sergeant _ _James Buchanan Barnes rushed his slow paced walk until he rounded the corner of an alleyway. Of course. There was Steve at the end, his small body sprawled in the corner of the alley. Bucky internally groaned. Steve was such a righteous boy, always getting into trouble for mainly the right reasons. He hated bullies, yet Bucky was actually surprised at how Steve had even managed to stay alive for so long, considering all the illnesses he had._

_So, the Sergeant hurried himself over to the bully, grabbing his arm and flinging him away from Steve._

_"Hey! Pick on someone your own size," he stated, slowly walking towards the other man. The bully suddenly swung his left fist. With ease, Bucky merely leaned back before giving the bully a taste of his own medicine by slugging him in the jaw. The man spun and stumbled forward, his rear pointed towards Bucky. The military man smirked and kicked the bully in the ass, sending him forward. Bucky watched the bully leave, as if making sure that he had left for good._

_"Sometimes, I think you like getting punched," Bucky sighed, watching Steve pick himself back up._

_"I had 'em on the ropes," Steve responded, not even sounding ashamed. A piece of paper was on the ground, ending up in Bucky's hands. He didn't even have to look at it to know what it was._

_"How many times is this? Aw, you're from Paramus, now? You know, it's to lie on your enlistment form. And seriously, Jersey?" Bucky sighed, feeling as if he had had this conversation with Steve every day. And every day, the little guy would be rejected for being too ill and not physically meeting military standards. His friend wiped his friend, eyes locking onto Bucky's uniform._

_"You get your orders?" Steve stared up at Bucky._

_"The 107__th__. Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow…"_

_"I should be going," Steve despondently muttered, grimacing. A smile broke out on Bucky's face as he grasped Steve's shoulder, pulling him close to him._

_"C'mon man, my last night! Gotta get you cleaned up," his smile grew wider as Steve grinned back._

_"Why, where we goin'?" _

_"The future," Bucky let go of Steve, handing him the newspaper. He tossed the enlistment form behind him, knowing that Steve will still try again and sign up for the military. Sometimes, Bucky hated the fact that his friend was so determined to serve his country. _

The Winter Soldier gasped slightly, feeling Erin's hands wrap around his human arm. He felt dizzy and nauseous. Yet, he pulled his glove back onto his metal hand, praying that Erin didn't see it. He twisted around, seeing Marcus pushed back by the man who held Bella. Bucky moved forward, only to nearly fall again. Luckily, with Erin's help, he caught himself, his left arm propping himself against the wall.

"Hey!" that voice, Bucky had heard that from somewhere. The voice matched with a face as a past customer came running past him. It was Skylar Mass, the girl with the half shaved head and piercings. She ran forth, jumping in the air, propelling herself forward by pushing off of the wall of the alleyway. Her fist connected with the guy who held Bella, superman punching him. He stumbled back, letting Bella fall to the ground, as Skylar released her wrath on him. Bucky scowled. He probably looked weak in front of everybody.

"You okay?" Skylar went to check up on Bella, helping her to her feet. Bella's brown eyes were wide with awe as she slowly nodded her thanks. Bucky straightened himself up, pushing away the agonizing throbbing of his head. He narrowed his eyes as he carefully watched Skylar, examining the way she moved and worked. Then, their gazes met. Skylar glared at Bucky, returning his insolent staring. But, she was distracted by Bella, who was profusely thanking her.

"That was…weird," Erin murmured, shaking her head. How much did she hear?

Once they had regrouped (this time with Skylar), they all headed back to the restaurant and slit in different directions, heading to either their cars or home. Erin had leaned on Bucky the entire way until she eventually had to lead Bucky to her humble abode. Very few men and women gave them little trouble, due to the menacing glowers Bucky gave them. Bucky enjoyed having Erin lean against him, making him feel warm and fuzzy. He wasn't aware of why she had this effect on him, but he couldn't help but say that he missed her presence once they arrived at the apartment complex. Reluctantly, Bucky stayed outside instead of following Erin. She stopped, pausing to turn around. Then, she practically flew into his arms, her cheek pressed against his chest. Bucky stared down at Erin before returning the hug, faintly feeling Erin nuzzle his chest before pulling away. Her cheeks were no longer tinted pink, but still had the air of not being entirely sober.

"Thanks," she smiled and headed inside the building. Bucky stood there for a moment, relishing the moment that they had shared before scolding himself. It was stupid and childish to have such an attachment to another human. All these feelings boiling inside of him were confusing; Bucky had no idea how to deal with them. He sighed, wringing his hands together as he turned to head back to the homeless shelter.

* * *

I closed the door of my apartment, sighing heavily. The ordeal that had just happened still deeply confused me. What did the man mean when he called Bucky The Winter Soldier? If he was even speaking to Bucky, that is. Jaime was pretty strange anyways. Yet, his mouth had filled with foam, his last words had been Hail Hydra. Ugh, my head hurt.

I headed towards the kitchen, getting myself a glass of cold water. I drank it slowly, soothing my dry throat.

I could have sworn that I saw Bucky's hand shimmer.

* * *

**Sorry this chapter isn't very good either. Kind of a half-assed effort and I do apologize for that. **

**I've been really upset this weekend due to the fact that Sebastian Stan (actor for Bucky Barnes) was at Philly Con this weekend and I had a good chance to ask someone to take me to meet him. Of course, it would have cost a lot of money, but still. C'mon, this man is my idol now. Basically, I sat at the computer, scrolling through my Tumblr and enviously reading stories of fans meeting him and how fantastic he is (bit of a stupid reason to be upset over). But, if any of you guys met him, I would love to hear your stories and look at pictures.**

**Also, I'm very confused on Bucky's eyes. Are they green or blue? I've seen plenty of pictures where Bucky/Sebastian has green eyes, then others he has deep blue eyes. I'll probably keep them green, but it still confuses me.**

**I did promise to cut a lot of the drama out of the next few chapters, but I don't quite work out that way because I get bored easily. eugh**

**Review, favorite, follow, do whatever, and have a good day/night where ever in the world you are.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: This Ain't a Scene, it's an **ARM**s Race

June 30, 2014

Monday, 7:59 A.M.

I yawned, stretching out my sore limbs as I sat up in my bed. My alarm squealed as if eager for me to get up. I didn't want to do anything, especially go to work. Not that I didn't mind going to the La Ciudad. It's just the fact that I have to move and be social. _Ew._

I sluggishly ambled around my room, my hair in a mess of tangles. My usual nightwear consisted of a baggy gray t-shirt with the name "Green Day" scrawled across the front in cursive. I don't even know why I had this shirt; I don't even listen to the band. Black sweatpants were also a part of my sleeping wardrobe.

Once I put on appropriate attire (basically my work clothes), I headed to the bathroom and did my thing. My hair was a god awful mess. Even my brush had a hard time running through the thick hairs of hell itself, painfully detangling them. I shrugged and snatched up a ponytail holder, putting my hair up in the normal ponytail. Then, I proceeded to brush my teeth, not even bothering to eat. Wasn't hungry.

The restaurant didn't open till 9:00, so I didn't have much to worry about. I exited the apartment complex and reached the parking lot where my car was parked in. Again, the odd feeling of being watched followed me to the car, the hairs on my neck and arms standing on end. Goosebumps rose along my skin as a small breeze tickled the back of my neck. Once I entered my car, I slipped the key into the ignition, starting it up.

I've been getting these strange feelings of uneasiness ever since I met Bucky. Like someone was always there, keeping a good eye on me. Speaking of Bucky, it had been over a week since the incident in the alleyway. I didn't bring it up with Bucky or with anyone. I had so many questions to ask. Besides, I could ask them while popping the question about the 4th of July. It was only a few days away and I had been meaning to ask my co-workers to go somewhere and celebrate. There was a park not too far away that held a fireworks show every year; usually, I would watch the fireworks from my apartment windows. Not this year, though. It would be different, unlike last year's disaster.

I arrived at work with plenty of time to spare. Bella, Rico and Marcus were already there, making sure everything was ready once the restaurant opened. Bucky usually made it here on time, yet he still wasn't here. At least it gave me a little time to think about the questions that idly sat in my head.

* * *

Bucky sighed, pushing himself up and off of the floor. He stuck to sleeping on the floor, giving the other unfortunate ones the beds. Usually, he wouldn't feel guilty about taking a bed away from some pregnant woman with other children, but something inside of him triggered the guilt. Was this what the old Bucky Barnes was like? Was he so respectful as to give others comfort, even though risking his own?

The brunet did his usual routine. Shower, try and find something to eat, exchange a few words with Amy the Busty Redhead while making doubly sure to keep eye contact. In about two weeks or so, the sad trash hobo would be able to find his own apartment instead of living here. A familiar girl bounced her way over to Bucky, twirling a red curl around her index finger.

"Good morning Bucky!"

"'Morning," Bucky dipped his head slightly. Amy glanced down, fiddling with the front of her shirt.

"Where do you go every morning?" Amy asked, staring up at Bucky. He shifted his weight, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"To work. I uh, work at a restaurant," Bucky answered, not really wondering why the girl had asked. She perked up, her eyes widening.

"Well, I have today off and I was wondering where you went every day because I was hoping to be able to tag along with you," her voice basically sounded like she was pleading him to accept.

"Sure, I suppose," and with that, Bucky turned and walked out, Amy trailing behind him, excitedly asking questions about where he worked and what he did. Bucky answered each question to the best of his abilities and not really listening to anything else she had to say. Finally, the La Ciudad came into view, causing Bucky to inwardly sigh in relief.

"I assume this is it?" Amy pondered as Bucky entered, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Heads turned, their gazes locking onto Amy, who stuck out like sore thumb (due to her brightly colored hair). She immediately quieted down, averting her gaze to the floor.

"Right on time, as usual," Erin came around, giving a small smile to Bucky. He nodded his head to her, and then gestured to the woman behind him.

"This is Amy. She wanted to come along," Bucky took a step away from Amy, suddenly realizing how close she had drifted to him. Erin narrowed her eyes slightly, tilting her head to the side.

"Well, my name is Erin. The blonde over there is Bella and the guy at the register is Marcus. I hope you buy something instead of loitering," she gave a smile, but Bucky had a feeling that it was sarcastic. Amy nodded her head vigorously, giving a wide smile.

"Of course! Where should I sit?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Anywhere," Erin curtly responded and turned to Bucky, tilting her head to the side.

"So, July 4th is coming up. I want to invite you to a fireworks show at a park that's not too far from here. It'll be just you, me, Bella, and Marcus, plus friends they might want to bring along. We'll meet up at my apartment. Sound good?" Erin gave a small yet shy smile. Bucky shrugged, nodding.

"Great!" Erin giggled to herself and practically skipped away.

Though, something about the date July 4th seemed familiar to Bucky.

* * *

**Sorry that this chapter is really super short. By like, 3,000 words. Well, my reasons are that this is just a filler chapter. Nothing really goes on in this chapter that's intense. Basically, this chapter doesn't even matter and I wouldn't be surprised if you guys just skipped it. And I didn't really put a lot of effort into this one, so that's a fault on me. Again I do apologize.**

**Review, favorite, follow, or do whatever. Every person that reads this story means so much to me and I would like to thank you for even giving this story a chance. Good day/night where ever you are.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Bucky Bless the U.S.A.

July 4, 2014

Friday, 12:00 P.M.

I hummed along to a song, carefully putting down orders and serving customers. Rico had been nice enough to put some patriotic music over the small sound system that we had hooked up. Mostly, he played the older songs and actually made the place homey. Some of the songs were American Battle songs (such as The Battle Hymn of the Republic). It kind of made the place sound a bit ancient, but no one seemed to mind. One particular song even got Bucky in the mood. A few times, I caught him quietly singing the words to the song.

It was fascinating, actually. Once the song, "Over There" by George M. Cohan, started, Bucky tensed up. I couldn't read his face, but it relaxed into a pleasant expression. His mood seemed to lift a bit and I would even catch his lips moving to the words of the song. I didn't take Bucky as one to like older music. He also did this to some other songs, such as "Yankee Doodle Dandy" (redone by George M. Cohan as well) and "This Land is Your Land" by Woody Guthrie. It was like he didn't even realize he was doing it until the songs would end. Then, he would seem embarrassed and carry on quietly. It was cute.

What was I even thinking? Cute? I had only known this man for over a month now. Hell, I didn't even know his last name! Well, Bucky chose to keep his last name away from us…if he did have a last name. That's a stupid thought; of course he would have a last name. It could be the matter of memory. Perhaps he could have amnesia? I didn't opt it out of the options.

So, from what I've gathered in the past month, Bucky is a homeless, attractive, seemingly skilled fighter and claimed to have once taken another's life, doesn't look to be older than 26, ex-military, and has no last name or actual origins. Nothing matched up. The only thing I could think of was about his homelessness. Most likely, he could have been evicted out of his home for whatever reason. But then, it didn't explain anything else. The man was a walking mystery.

"Hey, quit yer staring," Bella roughly elbowed me, knocking me out of my concentration. Without knowing it, I must have been staring right at Bucky. Thank God he didn't notice me.

"Excellent usage of grammar," I muttered to myself, causing Bella to snort.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't forget, we close at 5:00-" Bella started until I interrupted her.

"-and meet up at my apartment at 6:00. Yeah, yeah, I got it. I was the one who made up the schedule, remember?" I scoffed and went out to gather some customer's orders. Even though it was July 4th, Rico decided to keep the restaurant open. Actually, he had no choice as all of us (minus Bucky) absolutely insisted for him to keep it open. Most restaurants would be closed; therefore we would get more business. Besides, it gave us all something to do until our meet up. Besides, no one seemed to mind anyways.

It didn't take long for 5:00 to roll around. We all packed up, bid farewell to each other and went our separate ways, getting ready for the night ahead.

* * *

Bucky sighed, fiddling with his single glove. He hoped he looked decent, even though he basically rewore the same attire every day. Amy had been nice enough to give him yet another shirt, just a basic white t-shirt with long sleeves. She had approached him one day and specifically asked what type of shirts he liked. Of course, he responded with long sleeves, so she got him just that. Amy was a decent human, just too joyful.

Everything minus the new shirt was the same, including his dark blue cap. His hair was still pulled back into a bit of a messy ponytail. A few strands here and there didn't quite fit in with the ponytail, but at least the kind of framed his face. Bucky was still as scruffy as ever, not really being able to shave. At least he looked presentable and not caked in dirt and slime.

Erin had told him that she lived on the 3rd floor, room 203. So, here he was. Right outside of the door and yet the deadliest assassin the world has ever known was too nervous to knock. He could hear movement and talking inside. He only hung around his co-workers one time and even then…

Bucky raised his chin and hesitantly lifted his fist, his knuckles hovering over the wooden door until he rapped them against the door. The man held his breath, listening intently to the shuffling sounds of feet. The door opened, revealing Erin's pretty face. She cracked a smile and fully opened the door, taking a step back.

"Glad you could make it!" she grinned. Bucky shrugged a bit, glancing at what she was wearing. She had light green t-shirt on with grayish-blue jeans shorts with the ends folded up. Her shoes were black sneakers with vibrant green shoe laces. Her straight black hair framed her face and went great with the light green shirt. Bucky took a minute to admire her discreetly (which he seemed to do often) before entering the room, feeling a tad uncomfortable. He didn't what to do or how to act.

The first room (the main room) was the living room. The colors were mainly light. The walls were painted a baby blue color. The carpet was a tan color; the furniture was colored a chocolate dark brown. It was nice and easy on the eyes. In the middle of the small room, two couches were set up, parallel to each other. Between them was a glass coffee table. There was no TV in the room, just a small window to the left of the couches. To the right of them was the kitchen, which was basically a blob of brown and white. It was small with very few counters, a fridge, a sink, a dishwasher, a few cabinets, and an oven. A small set of table and chairs were in the middle of the kitchen (and remarkably, people still had room to move around in it). A hall slightly separated the kitchen from the living room, leading to three doors. Most likely a bedroom, a bathroom, and maybe a closet?

Marcus and Bella were both on the couch, having a small conversation about some guy who ran around with screwdrivers. How dangerous _and _stupid. Bucky tuned them out, not really caring about their words. He decided to stand instead of sit around and make himself at home. It wasn't appropriate to do so, especially in someone else's home.

"Rico had to bail out; other plans with family. Isn't Skylar coming as well?" Erin turned to Bella, waiting for an answer. Bella glanced at erin, and nodded quickly before going back to her conversation. Erin sighed, turning back to Bucky.

"We need to wait for Skylar to arrive and then we'll leave," she explained, folding her arms against her chest. Bucky rolled his shoulders, feeling a bit confused.

"Skylar?" he used his expression to convey confusion; luckily, Erin recognized what he meant.

"Remember Skylar Mass? She saved Bella a few weeks back. They've been in contact since, and possibly even conversed with each other when they first met," Erin reminded Bucky, a face popping into his head. Right, Skylar. The tall girl with that weird hair style and dark clothing. Something was strange about Skylar, but Bucky had no right to say anything about it. He felt like there was something more than her icy stare. A knock quickly sounded from the door, signaling that their final guest has made an appearance.

"Speak of the devil," Erin murmured and headed over to the door, opening it. Skylar stepped through, a smirk apparent on her face. Bucky lowered his head, but kept his gaze fixated on the strange woman. She still had the many piercings on her face and ears with the same hairstyle (part of her head was shaved, the other side of her head held short wavy black hair that only reached her eyes) and same punk look she had before. Her bright blue eyes locked onto Bucky, examining him for a moment. Bucky didn't break his stare, refused even. She turned away from him and went over to greet Bella.

"Alright guys, since everybody is here, why don't we head out now? Grab your stuff…if you have anything, that is," Erin announced and everybody stood up, either stretching or waiting patiently for the others to gather their things. Once done, they all clambered out of Erin's apartment and practically floated down the hallway and down the stairs. There were only 3 floors, so it was a pointless endeavor to take the elevator.

So, on foot, they set out, chatting delightfully. Bucky, as usual, hang back, not really listening on their conversations of cartoon characters that killed giant people or how much they enjoyed seeing some kid get poisoned and turn purple on another show of theirs. In fact, he was content to be left out of their mumbo jumbo, watching their backs just in case of danger.

Suddenly, as if no time had passed at all, they arrived at the park. Bella and Marcus complained about their feet hurting, while Erin smacked their arms and told them to toughen up. The park was more of a wide open field, one small part dedicated to children's needs of play and the rest of the environment was filled with greenery and benches. Picnics tables had been scattered around the field for the celebration that was to commence. There was still light outside; it usually didn't get dark until 8:00 or so, since it's summer time.

Bucky shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, knowing that sometime soon, he will have to take it off or else he would overheat and possibly die. The group chose a picnic table that was placed under the shade of a tree, rambling on at how lucky they were to find such a perfect place to be.

"Okay, in a few hours, at around 8, they will set off the fireworks display," Erin informed them and then sat down at the picnic table, getting comfortable. Bucky sat opposite of her, making sure to keep his green eyes lowered in case she found him creepy. Bella plopped next to Erin, giving Skylar an invitation to sit beside Bucky.

"Bucky, right?" The Winter Soldier stiffened slightly, glancing to the woman next to him. Her smirk was still there, as if she couldn't wipe it off. It wasn't just any normal smirk either. It was a knowing and mischievous kind of leer, one that made you feel uncomfortable, as if she knew your every secret. But of course, Bucky knew better than that. He instead narrowed his eyes, nodding slowly in a meek response.

"Not much of a talker, huh? Hm. You don't seem like you're from around here. Lemme guess, you grew up in a small city with a family who had taught you manners, right?" Skylar guessed, and it was an accurate one. Bucky worked his face into a dull expression, giving Skylar a blank look, showing no recognition. Her lips parted, as if taken back that she could be wrong. The moment of surprise lasted for only a mere second before it was wiped away, another smirk replacing her previous expression.

"Okay then…so, uh, Erin. How long have you known him?" Skylar turned to Erin, leaning into the table.

"Over a month now. Why?"

"No reason. How did you meet?"

"Well, Bucky actually saved me from…vile criminals. A few days later, I see him again and instead buy him a meal at the restaurant I-…_we_ work at. Ever since then, he's been working alongside us," Erin shrugged and began tracing a pattern in the wooden picnic table, as if suddenly interested in the intricate lines. Skylar sighed.

"So, where do you live?" Skylar was digging into Bucky's life; for whatever reason, Bucky did not know. Though, something was up with this girl, as stated before.

"Well, he doesn't quite have a place to live right now…" Erin awkwardly answered, giving Bucky a nervous glance. He could tell she didn't like the way Skylar was sifting through Bucky's life.

"How'd that happen?" Skylar turned her cold stare to Bucky. Bucky shifted around on the bench until he faced her, dark green eyes battling with blue. Bucky was the first to speak after a pregnant silence.

"Mind your own fucking business," he growled lowly before returning to his previous position, this time laying his forearms on the table with his hands clasped together.

"You know, it's not polite to use such language around women," Skylar said, causing Bucky to become rigid with embarrassment. It was as if some old moral code he had forgotten about resurfaced, confusing him greatly. His face heated up, a bit ashamed that he did use fowl language around Erin and Bella. Quickly, the assassin pushed away his embarrassment, inwardly scolding himself about even reacting.

"Leave him alone," Erin came at Bucky's defense, giving him a pitied look. That was the last thing Bucky wanted from anybody. Pity. They would look at him like he was a sick dog. He was a master assassin, capable of taking down every person at this park with only one hand. He closed his bionic hand into a fist, listening to the leather tighten. Skylar leaned away from Bucky, her hands poised in the air, as if signaling her defeat.

"Alright, take care, Bucky-o," she sneered and stood up, swinging her leg over the bench to get out. Bella stood up after Skylar, trailing after her. Bucky sighed, bowing his head.

"Wow, she was really interrogating you," Erin muttered, shaking her head in disapproval. Bucky shrugged his shoulders, stealing a glance at Erin, clandestinely admiring her. She seemed to not use makeup, and when she did, it was in modest amounts. Of course, younger women were rarely seen with masks of makeup when Bucky was growing up. Then again, that was over 70 years ago. Things have certainly changed, whether good or bad.

"I've had worse," Bucky softly replied, his voice quiet. Erin moved her gaze up until it met Bucky's eyes, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"You know, you're a big mystery," Erin propped her elbow up on the table, pressing her cheek into her hand. Bucky shrugged once more.

"I don't know very much about you," the ex-military man suggested, licking his lips. The girl straightened up, her eyes widened as if she didn't expect the question. She instead shrugged it off, looking elsewhere.

"There isn't much _to_ know about me," she murmured.

"Doesn't mean that I'm not interested," he retorted, leaning forward as if anticipating whatever words she had to say. Erin shifted her gaze back onto Bucky before speaking again, examining him closely.

"Well, I was taken in by my aunt and uncle at an early age. Parents did…um, some bad things. Anyways, I have a younger brother, who should be in college by now. I hear that he wants to move to D.C, but I'm not sure at how much he would fit in here. That's it, really. See, nothing much," she hunched her shoulders, giving a small grin. Bucky sat there, knowing that there was more to it.

"Do you want to talk about your parents?" he tentatively asked. She shook her head, refusing to say anything more.

Erin didn't seem to be one of those girls who had a haunting past. Yet, it seemed like something about her parents deeply bothered her. Perhaps they were drug addicts. Possibly criminals. Anything could be possible, really. She didn't appear to have a strong connection to her parents. Bucky looked away from her, practically twiddling his thumbs. He summoned the courage to speak again.

"James Buchanan Barnes," he said in a hushed voice, staring at the picnic table.

"What?"

"My name. That's my name. James Buchanan Barnes," Bucky felt awkward speaking about his name, especially when he was so unsure of it even being that. The man on the bridge…Steve told him. The blond man was convinced that they were old friends. Had they really grown up together? All Bucky could remember was a small and skinny boy who was ill and bed-ridden all the time. But of course, there wasn't much that Bucky could actually remember.

"That's a nice name. Why didn't you tell us before?" Erin inquired, tilting her head to the side.

"I didn't trust you," he began, practically holding his breath, "and I wasn't for sure that was my real name."

"What do you mean? Do you not remember?"

"No…not really," Bucky exhaled deeply, folding his arms against his chest. Erin stared at him, glancing momentarily at his arm.

"So, should I continue with Bucky or go with the formal route of your actual name…?"

"Bucky. Bucky is fine."

"A week ago, I saw your hand shine like…I don't know, but…is there something wrong with your arm?" she questioned, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. Bucky shifted, making his sitting position more comfortable on the bench. Green eyes glanced down at his left arm, wondering if he should tell her. Or at least he could make up something relatively close to the real story.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to-"

"Amputee. I uh, lost my arm in the war," Bucky promptly answered, cutting her off. Erin paused.

"Which war? Afghanistan or Iraq?" Erin asked.

"Yes," Bucky responded, not knowing any of those wars. He knew (most likely), that he had started wars because of his previous occupation. He wouldn't remember the assassinations after Hydra would wipe him, but he did know that he "changed" the world. Some old man would tell him that he was doing this for the greater good. That man was replaced and the line of replacements kept going until Alexander Pierce was kneeling at Bucky's side, convincing him that he altered the world. Not complete lies, no. But the world would distort into Hydra's favor, all because of him.

Erin opened her mouth, deeply confused by his answer. She must have thought better of it and instead left it at that, probably thinking that Bucky didn't want to talk about it. In truth, he didn't. The memory of losing his arm was vivid.

_The large man fired his weapon, blue streaking behind Bucky and Steve as they both ducked. The beam missed and instead hit the side of the train, blowing it out. The winter wind rushed into the train, giving Bucky chills. He vehemently glanced around, seeing that Steve had thrown himself against the other side of the vehicle. The man with the Hydra weapon moved forward. Steve's patriotic vibranium shield lay directly in front of Bucky, giving him some protection. He picked up the shield and looped his hand into the straps, not securing it on his arm. The Sergeant raised his pistol, shooting at the Hydra agent. The man fired his weapon again, hitting the shield. It knocked Bucky back, the shield flying the rear of the train. He hit face first into the flimsy metal of the torn train, sliding to the left as the wind gripped and clawed at his body. Desperately, Bucky searched for something to hold on to. His now numb fingers found a bar, wrapping themselves around it. He grabbed the metal with his other hand, but was unable to lift himself up._

_"Bucky!" Steve called as his head peered out from the safety of the train._

_Bucky gripped the bar, knowing that he couldn't hold on forever. Steve leaned over the side of the train, reaching for Bucky. Deciding that was pointless from his current position, Captain America shimmied his way along the sheet of metal, carefully placing his feet on footholds. Bucky tried scooting his way along the bar, getting slightly closer to the captain._

_"Hang on!" Steve cried out, reaching out for Bucky, "grab my hand!"_

_Bucky was about to let go of the bar until he heard it creak. Horror sunk into the boy from Brooklyn as the bar gave away due to his weight. In a frantic attempt, Bucky reached out for Steve's hand, only for the bar to give away completely. _

_"No!" Steve shouted, trying to grab Bucky's hand in time before he fell. Bucky let out a scream as he fell, the wind whistling around him. His limbs flailed, as if he could have reached Steve's hand if he tried hard enough. He could feel his descent as his body twisted him forward, the ground quickly rising up to meet him._

_Bucky hit the side of the mountain, tumbling down. Pain ripped through his left side as he rolled down the mountain, crying out in agony until his body stopped. He was face down, his cheek pressed into the cold snow. Small shivers tore through his body as he laid there, waiting for death to claim him. Blood dripped from the torn tissue of what remained of his arm, soaking into the shredded sleeve. Bucky stared ahead, his vision failing him. How did he even survive the fall? He should have been dead. If anything, Bucky would either bleed out or freeze to death in this cold._

_How long has it been now? A few minutes? Hours, perhaps even days? Bucky had no clue, but felt an odd sensation of being dragged. He had been flipped onto his back and was being dragged across the snow by something. The Sergeant looked to his left, blearily staring at the torn flesh of what once was his arm while he was dragged away._

The memory didn't hurt. He had remembered it clearly and held onto it each time they wiped his mind. Sure, a few fragments of it were left out. Once he was free of Hydra's clutch, pieces of the memory resurfaced through nightmares.

"Hey, it's fine if you don't want to talk about it. Just know that I'm here when you want to talk," Erin reached over, placing her hand on Bucky's right fist. He had forgotten that he had clenched his hand and it apparently had grown a bit worse. Bucky loosened his fist, hissing through his teeth. When skin made contact with skin, a spark shot through Bucky. Even though Bucky had touched Erin before, they never really _touched_. Her fingers tightened slightly, as if to comfort him. The Winter Soldier stared at Erin's hand before looking up at her, her blue eyes staring intently into his green. They held each other's gazes for a while, Bucky's heart practically jumping into his throat. Then, the moment was over. Erin pulled her hand away and placed it in her lap, coughing awkwardly. She tore her gaze away, letting her eyes wonder elsewhere. Bucky's heart sunk, though he had no idea why and instead returned his attention to the picnic table. For a while, they sat there until Marcus sauntered over, a large yellow blanket in his arms.

"Hey, guys! I was able to retrieve a blanket so that we could sit out on the grass and watch the fireworks like that. It'll be much more comfortable than this raggedy table," he offered and began to spread the blanket over the greenery, making sure to straighten out the edges of it. Erin shrugged and hopped off of the picnic table, settling herself on the edge of the blanket.

"Hey, Bucky, can you find Bella and Skylar? The show is about to start," Marcus narrowed his brown eyes. Bucky nodded, not really willing to cooperate with anything that Marcus ordered him to do. But, orders were orders. He stood up and pinpointed the small blonde. He marched forth, his walk apparently hypnotizing some groups of women and even a few men. Bucky reached Bella's side, tapping her shoulder. She practically jumped out of her skin and twisted around, smacking Bucky's arm. Of course, it was like a flea compared to him. He just stared blankly at Bella, making her irritated.

"What did I tell you about sneaking up on me!" she hissed and took a step back, folding her arms against her chest. Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Come on, the show is about to start," he mumbled. Skylar slung an arm around Bella, staring at Bucky. He glanced between the two. There was no way that they were just _friends_.

"Yeah, we'll be there," Skylar pushed past Bucky, not even bothering to say excuse me. He growled, pressing his lips together in annoyance. The assassin followed them back, only to realize something. Erin was sitting at the edge of the blanket, Marcus next to her. Skylar and Bella settled next to each other, shoulder to shoulder. Which meant that there was no room for Bucky. Marcus's gaze shifted onto Bucky, a smirk evident on his smug face. Bucky instead went to Erin's right side, not at all minding having to sit on the grass. Once he sat down, he leaned back, his hands propping himself up. It was pretty dark and in the distance, a few figures were visible. In only ten minutes, the first firework was set off. It was small and loud, leaving a smoky smell in the air.

Bucky didn't like the loud noises. It reminded him of battle and his guns and explosives. Subconsciously, the ex-assassin reached for his hip, only to realize once again that his weapons were indeed not there. Feeling troubled, Bucky placed his hand back onto the grass, feeling the cool blades between his fingers. Something warm covered the top of his hand. It was Erin's. Bucky's eyes drifted up to meet hers, eyebrows rose in disbelief. She gave a small grin, giving his hand yet another squeeze. She knew that these fireworks must be troubling him; he could see it in her eyes. So, Bucky turned his hand over, palm pressed against the palm of her hand. Then, he curled his fingers, threading them with her's until they were holding hands.

Erin's lips parted in surprise, as if she expected for him to pull away like he usually did. Bucky gave a small smile, probably the first genuine grin in over 70 years. Of course, Erin didn't know that. All she knew was that that was the first time Bucky ever smiled at her, or anyone for that matter.

Another firework lit up the sky, causing people and small children to ooh and ahh in admiration. The soldier turned back to face the sky, the luminosity from the fireworks lighting up his face. Something else clicked in the back of his mind, a few memories coming to surface. Bucky bit his lower lip, staring up at the sky with wide eyes.

The memories were happy, something that Bucky hadn't had in such a long time. They involved the blond haired, blue eyed, star spangled man. Well, when they were just wee little ones. Bucky would be at the small child's side, a cupcake in his hand as he chanted some sort of song. It took a while for the song to come to mind, but eventually he realized what celebration was taking hold, besides the 4th of July.

Tears pricked in his eyes, though he refused to let them go as he stared up at the sky, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The next firework exploded in a mixture of red, white and blue, creating a makeshift star.

"Happy Birthday, Steve," Bucky spoke in a hushed voice filled with emotion and fondness. He closed his eyes, listening to the noise of the fireworks.

* * *

**Aw yes, finally, the day of freedom had come upon us.**

**freedom freedom freedom**

**This is a better chapter than what I've been doing. Mm, i love the scent of a relationship building. **

**Not much to say for this chapter, but thank you for reading. It means a lot to me that my mediocre stories are getting attention. Review, follow, favorite and have a good day/night where ever you are.**

**Also, to my fellow American's, happy Fourth of July! Happy Birthday Cap!**

**Stay safe around the fireworks and people and have a fantastic day. May it be filled with bald eagles and justice.**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: It's Time to Buck-gin

July 13, 2014

Sunday, 12:00 P.M.

Today was my day off. Sundays usually meant day offs, considering religious ceremonies my friends might not take part in. My black hair was tied up in a bun, my weird night shirt hanging over my legs as I curled up in the chair at my table. I shoveled a piece of waffle into my mouth, practically moaning at the sweet syrupy goodness. My laptop sat in front of me, opened up to miscellaneous websites. I had just woke up, nearly forgetting that I had to meet Bucky today.

Finally, the strange man had saved up enough money to be able to get an apartment of his own. And I was to help him get one. Apparently, I was city-savvy and had to go out and find apartment complexes that were cheap and available. It was easy, I guess. There was a building that was about three blocks away from me. Not too terribly far, I guess. The room was about $800, not too shabby. It even came with its own furniture, which was a bit strange. And unfair. My apartment wasn't nice enough to supply furniture. Eh, whatever, I suppose. It was only a few couches, necessary kitchenware, bathroom stuff, so I guess the usual. It was a good deal, too. So, yesterday, I had approached Bucky and told him about it. I was ecstatic that I found him a home, but Bucky gave looked at me blankly. He was probably excited on the inside; give it time.

I slouched in the chair, staring at the emails that I had received. Which were about 10 or more. Considering the fact that I had no friends, over half of those emails were considered spam. They were mainly offers for stores or skin creams or penis enhancements. I seem to get those a lot. I scrolled back up to the top, squinting once I realized that I missed one. I had never seen the email address before, which confused me. No one really wanted to hold a conversation with me, except…

So, I led my mouse to it and hovered over the email, hesitant to open it. What was I to find? I mean, it wasn't like I was scared to death of another spam letter, but still. It was confusing to find someone willing to actually converse with me. Unless it was one of _those_ guys. It would have been funny if I found a jpg of a fedora.

Instead, the email opened up, revealing something much more ominous.

_I found you_.

The hand that gripped the mouse shook as I stared at the three words, mouth gaping with shock. My eyes darted to the address, double checking it. I didn't recognize it, but judging from the portentous words, it seemed as if it was _him._ Feeling scattered-brained, I quickly closed the tabs and shut down the laptop, scooting my chair far away from the table.

It probably wasn't him. Maybe some person wanted to screw with my mind. Yet, that didn't make sense. In fact, nothing really made sense if I was just trying to give another excuse. Deep down, I was for certain on who had sent me that strange message.

I was terrified.

* * *

Bucky stared at the building, waiting for Erin to make an appearance. She had promised to be here and yet, she was running late. Bucky couldn't blame her. It was a Sunday. A memory scratched at him, something special about Sundays.

The only thing that came up was the image of the blond man-of Steve sitting next to him on a wooden bench and listening intently to some man in black speak passionately. Steve held a book in his hands, the pages exposed. Tiny fine print accompanied the abnormally large book.

Was the Old Bucky Barnes religious? He knew about God (he assumed), but he never remembered him practicing religious affairs. Of course, what did he ever remember these days? Bucky swore under his breath, cursing Hydra for what they had done to him.

"Bad day?" Erin's familiar voice jerked Bucky out of his reminiscing as he turned to greet her. As normal, he gave a shrug and inhaled deeply. Erin was wearing a normal vibrant green t-shirt and shorts that stopped mid-thigh. As often as he has done before, Bucky discreetly "examined" her, particularly reminding himself to go and thank who ever created shorts. Back in his day, girls usually wore long skirts, covering the majority of the legs. And now…Bucky could say that he didn't mind.

"Alright, so I'm assuming you're ready?" Erin asked and linked arms with him, even though the older man pulled away. The assassin didn't like touching Erin with his metal arm. It didn't feel right, especially since it was _metal._ Sure, he had sensors of the sort that were connected to the nerves in his shoulder and chest area. The sensors would go off, giving him the sort of feeling of touch like he would have with his other arm. Still, after 70 years or so off having this arm of his, it never felt right. Then again, Hydra never cared for his comfort; they showed their love by cryo-freezing him after a mission was finished.

Erin looked a bit hurt before wiping the expression away. Even then, she seemed a bit pale. Something else was on her mind. It'd be best to ask after this…meeting.

"Well, follow me," she instead took a step away from Bucky and led him inside the apartment complex. He slightly hunched his shoulders, not really caring for actually having to socialize with the manager. Erin had practically mapped out this consultation, just telling Bucky to be quiet (which he was excellent at) and she will handle the rest. Also, he would be forced to say his last name. There wasn't going to be any leniency with this manager. Therefore, Bucky followed her, automatically greeted by the owner of the apartments. He had a large smile on his face, making it seem too large for his body to take. It probably would have been humorous if Bucky had a humor. Also, it's not wise to laugh at the man who's providing you a home.

His hair was wispy and gray, his skin pale and wrinkled drastically. He looked like a white sun dried worm. Erin held out her hand, shaking his extended limb.

"Hi, I'm Erin Rachels, the woman who called you a few days ago. Do you remember me?" she asked, a small grin on her face. The old man nodded.

"Yes, I do, miss," he gave another toothy smile, his eyes shifting over to Bucky. He shuffled forth, looking as if his hand was a hungry dog, searching for another hand to shake.

"I'm Harold Dottry," he beamed up at Bucky, a head shorter than The Winter Soldier.

"Bucky Barnes," he gave a clear response, surprising Erin. He usually grumbled or if she tried hard enough, possibly get a low voiced response. Bucky hid the smirk that threatened to grow on his face. The two men shook hands, (Bucky tried to hold back on his strong grip). Harold nodded and led them over to the elevator. They could've (and usually preferred) taken the stairs, but considering Harold's age…

He was probably older than Bucky.

The elevator stopped at the fourth floor and Harold bustled himself out, leading Erin and Bucky to their destination. The group stopped in front of Room C23. Harold pulled out a key and unlocked the apartment, allowing Erin and Bucky to pass through.

It was small. It had a kitchen, a small living room, barely anything you'd call a dining room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. How…quaint. At least it was something. Harold led them to the kitchen, which was to the left of the living room/dining room.

"This is the kitchen," he simply stated and moved on, giving very few comments on the rooms as he stated what they were. It nearly killed Bucky. Still, the assassin held his patience, biting the inside of his cheek. Finally, they reached the bedroom. It was small, like the rest of the house, and had a queen sized bed in the middle, flowery covered sheets on it.

"As you can all see, this is the bedroom. And a master bed comes along with it, for when you want to charm the ladies under covers," Harold elbowed Bucky, raising his eyebrows up and down as he gave another big smile. A red blush bloomed on Bucky's face as he stared at the man, knowing EXACTLY what he was leading on to. Erin stifled a giggle, grabbing Bucky's arm and leading him out of the room.

"It's still up for 800, right?" Erin asked, her voice still laced with a laugh. Bucky liked it.

"700 for the room, 100 for utilities, and 250 for rent every month," Bucky's eyes nearly popped from his head. Back in his days, apartments were never this expensive! A frown appeared on his face.

"My own damn house cost less than this," his grumbled, and thankfully, only Erin heard it. A shocked expression slid onto her face as she smacked his clothed arm, as if thinking that she could do any damage to his super soldier body.

"What's that, son?" Harold turned, aiming his right ear towards Bucky and Erin.

"He said that he'll take it. It's a perfect price, and cheap too, considering where we are," she smiled at the man, walking over to him.

"Great, in a few days, I'll call you about your Boyfriend filling out the forms," he squinted at her. Erin jumped back, her hands raised up as she tried to deny what Harold called Bucky. This time, it was Erin's turn to be flustered. Bucky couldn't help but give a low chuckle, not easily concealing it. Erin twisted around, giving him a harsh scowl. He shrugged in response, not really affected by her.

"We're not together. He wishes, though," she turned and practically stomped out of the room, her arms crossed in mock irritation. Bucky was about to follow him until he heard the old man grunt. The assassin turned, feeling Harold tug on his jacket. Apparently, he had made out to stop Bucky, only to be nearly dragged by the super-soldier. Harold was like a flea. Bucky paused, steadying the man.

"Ya know, she's a keeper," he wheezed.

"What?"

"Your friend. Better snatch her up before some other fellow does," Harold clapped Bucky's shoulder, struggling only in the slightest due to the height difference. Bucky's face burned with discomfiture.

"I'm not sure if she feels like that. About me that is," Bucky rubbed the back of his neck with his human hand, relishing the warmth and feeling of his actual arm, instead of cold metal.

"No worries, sonny. I've had plenty experience with that sort of stuff. I may be old, but the women haven't changed much. There's somethin' there, whether you know it or not," Harold pulled back, giving a small smirk. Bucky rolled his shoulders, feeling incredibly awkward. He cleared his throat.

"Well, I'll see you sometime this week, then," Bucky backed out of the room, only to see Erin leaning against the wall next to the door, her eyes closed and arms still crossed. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing her blue irises and dilated pupils. She nearly jumped back,, obviously frightened by Bucky.

"You seriously need to invest in something other than your terrifyingly quiet shoes," she commented, shaking off her momentary scare. Bucky glanced down at his shoes. He wished that he still had his old gear. He had gotten rid of it, in a dumpster somewhere near the Smithsonian. He didn't want to bother with carrying the load of his combat gear around with him. Besides, if he was to keep his identity a secret, he had to get rid of his gear.

His gear also carried bad memories.

It always felt menacing on him. Sometimes, whilst he was on a mission, a memory of some assassination that happened long ago would push through. Like the assassination of Howard and Mary Stark.

_The Winter Soldier crouched, his weapon pressed into his shoulder. For a few days, The Winter Soldier tracked the couple, silently waiting in the shadows. Always watching, looking for a crack in their shield. He didn't why they were of importance, just that they needed to be dead. _

_The Winter Soldier moved forward, carefully placing his black boots on the pavement, eyes darting everywhere. His goggles barely reflected any sunlight, which was good. Barely anybody would be able to see the glint. He tightened his metal hand around his gun._

_He was at a highway, heavily populated by cars and people. Not a very swell choice, but the assassin had no opinion. Hydra made sure of that. How was he going to take out his targets and make it look like an accident?_

_The tires. As The Winter Soldier intently observed, he noticed at how the cars were nearly clumped together, making it easy for an accident to happen. He lifted his sniper, pressing the butt of it into his shoulder, his cheek leaning against it as he took aim, waiting. It didn't take too long (not that the assassin really cared; he's laid on the ground for hours at a time) for his targets to show up. Deftly, The Winter Soldier slipped his finger onto the trigger, following the vehicle through his scope. He focused on the front tire, waiting for the right moment to fire. _

_His target's car drifted next to another, going at a speed faster than the others. The sniper went off, the bullet easily piercing the thin rubber of the tire. The Winter Soldier could even see where the bullet had hit the tire, taking it out completely. The car spun out of control, slamming into the vehicle next to it. Screams tore through the air as helpless civilians ran away from the scene. The assassin jumped down from his high position, practically leaping off of his hiding spot. He discarded his sniper, his bionic arm reaching for the pistol hanging at his hip._

_Finally, The Winter Soldier reached the demolished vehicle, and judging by the looks of it, there were no survivors from either car. Still, Hydra would want him to make sure of his work. He didn't even have to pull out his pistol. Howard and Mary Stark's bodies were limp inside the car, blood running from a wound in their heads. Even by a glance, one would be able to tell that they were dead._

_The Winter Soldier felt no remorse._

Bucky sighed, rubbing his head as it throbbed painfully. The memory wasn't fresh, as the others had been. It didn't matter anyways. They were dead. Nothing anybody could do to bring them back. Unless, of course, dark magic.

"You okay?" Erin asked, cocking her head to the side. Bucky nodded.

"Yeah, just uh…having some headaches, that's all," he said.

"You seem to be having them a lot. Especially at the wrong times," Erin examined him. His body burned as her eyes seemed to take in every little detail and aspect of him. Bucky shifted his feet. Erin then exhaled deeply, pushing away from the wall. She slightly swung her arms around.

"Well, since we don't have much to do, do you want to go shop for supplies and such?"

"Why?"

"You need new clothes. Like, desperately need, no offense," Erin spread her hands, palms facing upwards. Bucky shrugged. He could also get that hair cut he so urgently desired.

"I suppose," Bucky responded, earning a large grin. Bucky gave a small smile, staring down at his feet. Erin grabbed his hand.

"We'll go to the mall; there are plenty of stores there. I'm sure that you want comfortable clothes? How much do you have saved up?" Bucky allowed Erin to pull him down the hallway, even though he could easily become a brick wall and immovable.

Once they were outside, Erin pulled out what Bucky guessed was her phone. They obviously didn't have that type of technology back in his day. They seemed so…complicated and high-tech. Of course, Hydra probably had better technology than a simple touch-screen phone. Still, the assassin wanted no business in the phone world.

"Alright, the mall isn't too far, so just follow me," Erin mumbled under her breath, still leading Bucky across the sidewalk. She easily maneuvered herself around people and trees, occasionally bumping into someone. Bucky didn't feel comfortable with her staring so intently at her phone like that. She was so reckless; the sergeant wanted to sit her down and scold her about her etiquette. The girl stopped at a walkway and nearly rushed herself into the street, if it wasn't for Bucky.

Erin stepped onto the road, about to walk forward when Bucky quickly wrapped his hands around her hips, tugging her back. His green eyes were wide, barely able to breathe. Erin protested at first.

"Hey-…oh," she muttered, turning to face Bucky. Their bodies were so close to each other, simply staring at each other with wide eyes. Erin glanced down at where Bucky's hands had settled on her hips. She coughed.

"Oh, um, sorry," Bucky quickly pulled away, feeling bashful and sheepish. Erin rolled her shoulders and grabbed Bucky's hand again, waiting for the street to clear of cars and let them cross.

Finally, the mall came into view. It was big, about two stories. If it was big, then that meant large crowds. Bucky never really felt comfortable around masses of civilians, considering who he used to be. He gritted his teeth, glancing at Erin.

* * *

"Trust me; this'll be fun," I tried to make Bucky unwind. He seemed so tense. I'm sure once he actually got in there, he would settle down. So, I pulled at him again, feeling his calloused hand relax against my palm. I enjoyed how warm it felt in my hand, how his fingers automatically curled around mine in unity-

Ugh, I really need to focus on something else, other than Bucky.

Double doors opened for us, revealing a spacious and rather beautiful place. Small stands and shops were set up in the middle of the walkway, trying to leech money from bystanders. Stores were cluttered along the wall. My eyes searched for the men's clothing area, assuming that Bucky just wanted some nice, cheap, and comfortable clothing. I led him to Old Navy, which was luckily close to us. My feet guided us both to the men's area.

"All right, pick out whatever shirt and jeans you want. Maybe go and find yourself a new jacket," I gestured towards the racks of shirts and other items that were for sale. Bucky shuffled his feet, as if unsure of what to do. I sigh. Men.

"Okay, how about I pick out some shirts and jeans and you can go try them on," I crossed my arms, raising my eyebrows. Bucky seemed a bit hesitant before nodding, a muscle feathering in his jaw.

"Great! Just…go over there and wait for me. Wait, do you know what size you are?" I asked, my eyes wide. Bucky shook his head, biting his lip. Oh my.

"I'm just going to guess then," I took a step back and let my eyes roam, attempting to figure out what size he could be. Once that was decided, I beamed at him and walked off to some shirt racks, picking up a few dark colored t-shirts. He seemed to like long sleeve, but considering the heat, he should have some short sleeves, too. I grabbed the shirts and hung them on my arm, constantly searching for more. Bucky just needed a few shirts to get started off. Jeans were stacked near me. I was about to go over to them before I stopped, a certain shirt catching my eye. It was a white tank top with Captain America's shield on it. Bucky looked like a super hero type of guy; he could so pull it off. So, I grabbed it and took off to the jeans, grabbing a few pairs of dark colored jeans and some other comfortable looking pants.

Bucky was leaning against the wall, his head tilted down, but I still felt like he was watching me. Not that I minded, really. In fact, I'm pretty sure he was watching me, because once I was able to get around a rack of man clothing, he lifted his head, green eyes boring into me. I raised my arms, showing the clothing that I had gathered for him. Once I got close, I shoved them into his hands.

"Try these on. I don't care whether you show me them or not. If they don't fit, then just tell me," I waved him off to a changing room, deciding to take a seat.

Bucky seemed to take a long time, but once he got out of the dressing room, his face was contorted with anger. I stood up, my smile wiped away.

"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned as to why he would get angry over clothing. Could he not fit into the jeans? He lifted up his left arm, the glove concealed hand gripping the Captain America "wife beater" shirt tightly.

"Why'd you get this?" he hissed, softly touching his forehead with his other hand. I swallowed, feeling uncomfortable. I averted my gaze, unable to stand looking at him. His face softened.

"I thought that you'd like it," I shrugged, worrying my lower lip, "Guess I shouldn't assume."

Bucky's hands touched my shoulders as they lightly rested on them. Surprised, I looked back up at him, taking in his face. His long hair had been tucked behind his ears, his stubble getting a bit thicker as the days passed. His jawline was greatly defined. He had leaned in slightly, his face close to mine. I liked this view.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you. My headaches just got worst, and I suppose I'm a bit grouchy from that," he chuckled, tilting his head slightly, his tough demeanor completely diminished. My lips were tugged up in a shy smile.

"I-It's fine," I stuttered. Bucky blinked before pulling away, closing himself back in again. That was weird; it was like Bucky was a different person. I had never seen him look so…concerned about anyone. My face burned as we both turned away from each other. I pressed my lips together in a thin line. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I didn't bother to check it.

After we were done (the clothing fit Bucky perfectly and he didn't want to spend any more time in there), we went to the checkout. It came to $200 all together, which had Bucky practically reeling.

"Are you kidding me? Bucky, that's really cheap, considering how many articles of clothing you got," I scolded him, furrowing my eyebrows as I watched him painfully hand over the money.

"Still, I'm being wasteful with what I got. There are other things that are more important," he grumbled in response, obviously not a happy camper. The cashier stared at Bucky for a while before registering that he had to put the clothes in a bag. I giggled, feeling pitiful for the employee as he tried to hide his evident attraction to Bucky. It was made even better when the once-hobo was completely oblivious to the other man behind the counter. After a moment in his love-struck daze, he snapped out of it, smiling bashfully. Bucky just rocked on his toes, patiently waiting for his items. Once done, Bucky gathered all of the bags in his arms, looping his hands through the holes to carry it. I felt a bit guilty about making him carry the entire load, so I hurried over to him, grabbing his arm.

"Let me carry a bag," I pleaded, looking up at him with wide eyes. Bucky gave me a weird look, pulling away slightly.

"It wouldn't be courteous to make you carry a bag. That'd be rude," he blatantly responded, walking out of the store.

"Oh, who made you the King of Chivalry and Courtesy?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

"Fine. Want to hold them? Here," he practically shoved the heaviest bag onto me. I grunted, stumbling backwards from the force. I stuck out my lower lip, pouting.

"Ass," I muttered under my breath. Bucky tilted his head towards me, raising his eyebrows.

"Want me to take the bag, now?" he teased. Sheepishly, I nodded and handed it to him, not even able to look him in his intense dark green eyes. Bucky took the bag back, giving me a curt nod. We walked silently for a while until he spoke up again.

"I want my hair cut," he promptly stated. I glanced over at him, nodding vigorously.

"Yeah, it would seem so," I gave a small chuckle as he self-consciously tucked his chin length hair behind his ears, "No worries, I know a place. Have any particular haircut in mind?"

"How is everybody else doing it, these days?" I stared at Bucky. What a strange question. Though, I merely brushed it off.

"Well, mostly, guys like to cut their hair short, but long enough to mess with," I suggested.

"Like combing it?"

"Kind of, except they like to spike it in a rather sexual way."

"I'm confused."

"You'll see," I lead him toward the barbershop inside the mall, not grabbing his hand this time (considering that they were full of bags). I entered it, giving a small yawn.

"Hello, how may I help you?" a woman with curly shoulder length chestnut colored hair approached us, her hands clasped against her stomach. I pointed at Bucky behind me with my thumb.

"He needs a haircut. You know that style where all the guys are getting it, where it's short, but kind of long in the front so they can style it, like spiking it up or something?" I asked. She nodded, leaning to the side to get a look at Bucky. Her eyes traveled up the tall man, making me feel uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I get that request quite a lot. I can do it, honey," she responded with a large grin spreading across her face. Bucky set the bags down on the floor next to a chair, allowing me to sit in the chair and guard his clothing. He followed where the woman gestured him, sitting down hesitantly. He didn't look very comfortable in the chair; his back and shoulders were tense with…what?

The barber draped a towel over Bucky's torso and ditched the cap, getting to work on his hair. I didn't pay much attention, but it took about 30 minutes. Bucky had a lot of hair.

"Done!" she announced, backing away. Bucky brushed the hair off of the towel before standing up. He looked like a whole other man. It was the exact description that I had given her, except she took the liberty to tousle the front to make it look slightly messy. I bit back a purr, my heart thumping faster in my chest the longer I stared. Bucky stretched his neck out, not paying attention to my stalking. I held my breath, taking him in over and over again.

I liked his hair, a lot.

"It's $20, sweetheart," the woman went over to the counter, leaning against it. Bucky once again gawked at her before pulling out the bill from his pocket. He growled something about $3 and haircuts. Finally, he grabbed the bags and we marched out of the place, exiting the mall swiftly.

"I like-no, I love it," I elbowed him. Bucky glanced at me, the ghost of a smirk on his still stubbly face.

"Love what?" he asked, though it sounded like he knew exactly what I was talking about.

"Your hair. Though, you could've asked for a shave," I sighed, earning a shrug.

"I guess it kind of grew on me," he gave a small snicker. Wow, James Buchanan Barnes was laughing at his own joke.

"Wow, you're lame," I teased him, "So, do you want to go back to my apartment? You can leave your stuff there until you can move into your home."

"Yeah, that would be nice," he responded, giving a small smile.

We walked back to my apartment. By that time, it was dark, the sun already down. My phone vibrated again; I forgot that I hadn't checked my previous message. Shrugging it off, I lead Bucky through the building to my apartment, unlocking it for him. He pushed his way through, setting the bags down near the couches. He stood around, as if feeling awkward. I moved to the kitchen.

"Want anything to eat? Drink?" I asked, getting coffee for myself.

"Coffee, black," he responded.

"Ooh, an old fashioned kind of guy, eh? I should have known that already, especially when you were singing along to the war time songs on the 4th," I smirked, seeing Bucky shuffle his feet awkwardly, "No need to worry. I like those kinds of guys."

Once I finished the coffee, I brought Bucky a mug, smiling at him. He gladly took it and blew on it, making sure it cooled before drinking. I went back to the dining room table, leaning against it and drinking my coffee. It was quiet until for a third time, my phone vibrated. I finally picked it up, unlocking it. 3 messages from an unknown sender. I opened them.

_Hello, Erin._

_I found you._

_I am here._

* * *

Erin's face paled drastically as she stared at her phone. Bucky cocked his head to the side, confused as to why she looked so frightened. Bucky took a step forward, pausing when she slammed her phone down onto the table, looking as if she was going to vomit. Erin carefully set her coffee down, taking deep breaths.

"Is something wrong?" Bucky asked, moving forward.

"Uh, n-no. Just uh…this guy I used to know," she dropped the subject, staring at his left arm. Bucky glanced at his arm, slowly moving his gaze back to her. She dipped her head, gesturing towards it.

"Can I…can I see it? Your arm?" She asked, rocking back on the balls of her feet. Bucky hesitated. He didn't want her to know about the arm, yet…he trusted her. He already told her his name. Bucky just wondered when he would tell her about who he really is. He shrugged and took off his jacket, tossing it onto the couch. Then, he pulled off his long sleeved shirt, tossing it onto the jacket. Then, he pulled off the glove. At first, Bucky was relaxed until he remembered that Erin was watching. So, he put on a show.

The Winter Soldier flexed his abdominal muscles, not really straining himself. Being a super-soldier had its perks, such as not really trying too terribly hard to show off the muscles. Though, Bucky did need to work out. Erin's eyes passed over each muscle, as if memorizing it. Then, her blue gaze locked onto his arm. She walked forward until they were only 6 inches apart. Erin's hand slowly came up and was about to touch Bucky, until her eyes flitted up to him. Bucky nodded.

Her touch felt like fire as her fingers left a trail burning like hell. Bucky held his breath, watching her fingers dance over his skin until it reached the scarred tissue of where his bionic arm started. Her hand was soft and gentle as it grazed the end of the flesh. Bucky hissed.

"Does it hurt?" she asked in a hushed voice, staring up at him with wide eyes. Bucky shook his head, swallowing the lump in his now dry throat.

"Not anymore," he croaked. Erin nodded and continued touching each metal plate, pausing on the red Russian star on his shoulder. His sensors went off multiple times, making Bucky feel uncomfortable. He hated touching a human with his bionic arm. Nothing felt real, though his brain and nerves said it was. A shiver ran down the assassin's spine as Erin slid her fingers down and wrapped her hand around Bucky's metal hand. He stared down at it with watery eyes, biting his lower lip. Erin pulled him into a hug, wrapping her hands around his waist, her hands on his shoulder blades. She felt warm when pressed up against him.

Erin was shaking. Something about those things on her phone scared her. And Bucky hated it. Erin sighed, leaning her cheek against his pectoral. They stayed like that until Bucky harshly pulled away, everything in his instinct screaming to stay. Instead, he quickly put on his shirt and jacket and glove, then opened the door. He turned.

"I had a good time, today," he smiled and left the apartment, desperately wanting to go back and hold Erin in his arms forever.

* * *

**What a sweet chapter. I liked typing this one up. **

**I do apologize for any spelling mistakes, I'm typing on a laptop (that I am not used to) and since I'm on vacation, I'm in a car for most of the time, which is bumpy and I accidentally hit the wrong keys. So sorry.**

**Also, thank you for the people who reviewed this story! It always make me smile when I see that someone appreciates my story. Thank you to those who favorited and followed as well.**

**Bucky is beginning to trust Erin even more, now, which makes me happy. **

**Follow, favorite, and review! Have a good day/night wherever you are!**


	9. Chapter 9

_This chapter may contain triggers such as sexual violence and sexual content._

* * *

Chapter 9: It's Going Down, I'm Yelling "Bucky!"

July 17, 2014

7:28 A.M.

Bucky rose out of his bed, feeling groggy. It hasn't been a week since he received his apartment, though it didn't take long for Harold to get the papers through. He moved in yesterday night, yet there were no boxes. He didn't have anything to move. Erin visited frequently, insisting that he get a phone so she could call him and check up on him that way. Sure, it would be easier, but what in the hell was a cell phone?

The assassin's hair was a mess, but luckily it was short and not long and nasty. It was easier to manage and take care of. But, Bucky just left his hair alone, oblivious to the fact that he had women practically trailing after him. They would always ask for him to serve them and they received their requests with a small scowl from Erin.

Bucky pushed back the white bedsheets, swinging his legs over to the side. It took him a moment to steady himself, as rare as it is, and stood up, stretching. His Captain America tank top (thanks to Erin) fit perfectly over his torso, showing his metal arm. The sun glinted off of it, shining against the metal plates. He sighed. Bucky gathered his work clothes.

The assassin shuffled his feet out of the bedroom, guiding himself to the bathroom. Once there, he showered (and discovered that his arm was waterproof) and toweled off, and slipped on his work clothes, feeling a bit strange about how the cloth felt against his skin. He stared at his reflection; something in the back of his mind nagged him. His green eyes shifted over to a small black comb that laid on the counter. Hesitantly, he picked up with his with left hand, examining it. With narrowed eyes, an image flashed through his mind. It was him, except younger and with combed hair. Right. Bucky took the comb to his hair, letting the teeth slowly run through the wet hairs. He decided to comb it to the left, attempting to replicate the image. He thought that he did a good job.

Once satisfied with his hair, Bucky shaved his jaw and cheeks, knowing that the stubble was getting a bit out of control. Feeling as if he had done this every day, the razor glided across his face, tugging out the hairs. After 70 years of having a bit of stubble on his face, it finally felt wonderful to have a clean face. Hydra bothered to wax his chest, but didn't even touch his head.

Bucky headed to the kitchen and picked up an apple. It was already past 8:00. Not bad timing; he had to be at the La Ciudad at 8:30. Biting into the red apple, Bucky picked up his jacket and his glove, fitting it over the bionic hand. He flexed his fingers, loving the way the leather glove tightened over the metal. The sergeant slung his jacket under his armpit, holding it tightly against his side with his bicep. Then, after locking the door, he left.

It took about 20 minutes to walk there. If he ran, only about 5 minutes. After a few minutes of walking, Bucky finished his apple, tossing the core into a nearby trashcan. It was funny really; Bucky felt a bit better than before. He wasn't a walking casket of emotion (well, he still is, but not at the moment). At exactly 8:30, Bucky arrived, his hands in his pockets, jacket still under his arm. Marcus gave a meek greeting, sighing through his nose.

"And here I was hoping that you'd call in sick, today," Bella muttered under her breath, arranging different condiments at the tables. Bucky actually gave a small smirk and passed by her, lowering his voice.

"Sorry to disappoint you," he chuckled and walked on, seeing Bella turn around and give him wide brown eyes. Erin peeked out of the kitchen, her face tinged pink. She stared at his combed hair.

"Oh, morning Bucky," she sleepily beamed at him, pulling herself out of the kitchen area and into the dining area.

They all talked, except for Bucky, as they readied the restaurant for opening. Bucky just liked the light atmosphere of everybody. It wasn't tense or awkward, just relaxing. Then, 9:00 came around. They opened, letting the customers file right in. And of course, as usual, the females and some males requested for Bucky as their server.

Occasionally, Bucky would glance at Erin and watch her for a bit, watching her walk and interact. As if she knew that his eyes were on her, she gave a different sort of walk than her usual one. Instead of just a normal fast walk, she instead swung her hips slightly. It always put Bucky in a trance, his green eyes following every twist. Something deep within him stirred, causing him to bite back any embarrassing noise he was afraid that he might make.

Ever since Sunday, Erin had acted a bit different. Every time she saw him or even glanced at him, her cheeks would be slightly pink as she hurried around. Was it because of his arm? Or something else? Usually, when they were around each other at work, things were so tense. But, once they hung out at Buck's apartment, Erin was so casual around him.

Everything was going well (Bucky earned some extra stares at his hair) until a certain guy showed up. He had pale blond hair, cut short. Vibrant green eyes adorned him, contrasting against his pale-like skin. He wore a nice shirt and cargo pants. Surprisingly, he was rather handsome. He strolled in, confident in his skin. In fact, he was rather built, nearing Bucky's size, though he was a tad bit shorter, possibly Marcus's height. Bella gave him a seat, allowing Bucky to tend to him.

"Good morning sir, what would you like to drink?" Bucky sighed in a monotone voice, giving the man a blank stare.

"Actually, I was hoping to have a girl by the name Erin Rachels as my server," he practically purred in a disgustingly sweet voice. Bucky bristled. Slowly, he nodded and went off to the kitchen, searching for Erin. Finally, the assassin found the black haired woman waiting on Rico to bring the food to her. Bucky tapped her shoulder, keeping a small distance between them. Even then, considering how many inches were between them, his heart jumped into his throat and his face burned. Erin glanced up at him with her bright blue eyes.

"There's a man asking for you," he said, quickly recovering from his bashfulness. Erin nodded, gesturing Bucky to lead. He turned the corner and pointed over to the man, Erin at his side. Suddenly, she choked and rapidly flung herself back into the kitchen. Bucky leaned into the kitchen, seeing his friend pressed against the wall, one hand propping herself up, the other clasped over her mouth. She looked ghostly pale and like she was going to vomit. Bucky pushed himself over to her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. She seemed to relax against his touch, but only slightly.

"Erin, what's wrong?" he asked, wide eyed.

"P-please a-ask him to leave," she whispered between her fingers, shaking violently. Bucky examined her, swallowing.

"Erin, I'm not quite sure-"

"Please, Bucky!" she nearly cried out, removing her hand. Her eyes looked watery, as if tears would spill over at any second. Slowly, Bucky nodded. Before he removed himself from her proximity, the assassin placed a hand on her cheek, grazing his thumb against it. Erin leaned her face into the touch, her breathing seeming to calm down. Making sure that she was alright, Bucky headed out towards the man, approaching him. Marcus and Bella were both out there.

"Where's Erin?" the man asked, giving a small smirk. Bucky clasped his hands together, resting them on his stomach, giving the man a hard stare.

"Sir, would you please leave quietly and politely?" Bucky asked, blinking slowly. The man lifted his arms and rested them on the table.

"And why should I leave?" he questioned, rubbing his chin.

"Sir, again, please leave. I will not ask nicely again," Bucky threatened, raising his voice. It caught the attention of his co-workers as they turned towards him, eyes wide. Some customers turned around, staring at the small commotion.

"Erin asked you to leave, didn't see? Tell her that Eric just wanted to say hello," the man called Eric leaned back in his seat, a smirk evident on his face. Bucky clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he rolled up his right sleeve to his elbow, exposing his human arm. Then, he did the same to the other, showing off the metal plates as they tightened. Eric's eyes widened. With a serious face, Bucky stuck his human hand on his hip and slammed his bionic hand on the table, causing it to creak. Bucky lowered his face towards Eric's, until they were nearly nose to nose.

"I said get the fuck outta here, _sir_," Bucky hissed between gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed. Eric nodded quickly, sliding out of his seat. Bucky escorted him to the door, a smirk on his face. Once Eric left the building, Bucky sighed, calmly rolling down his sleeves.

Bucky didn't care that everybody probably saw his metal arm. Frankly, he didn't give two shits about what other people thought. Erin is what mattered to him, so if he risked his arm being visible, then so be it. Marcus and Bella stared at his left arm, now covered. He slightly felt self-conscious.

Bucky reached Erin again, who now had Rico calming her down.

"He's gone," Bucky announced, watching Erin for her reaction. She stared up at him, worrying her lower lip. Then, she practically flung herself against his torso, wrapping her arms around his waist. Bucky hugged her back, whispering that she was alright and it would be okay. Her body still shook as she pulled away, but at least her face had colored. She insisted that she was alright.

The rest of the day was okay, at least until closing time came around. Erin approached Bucky.

"Hey, do you want to go out and get some drinks? Just you and me?" she asked, barely even meeting his gaze. Bucky nodded.

"Great, so um, maybe at Adder's Pub? We'll meet there in about 30 minutes," she offered. Bucky nodded in agreement and said goodbye, heading back to his house to change. He pulled his work clothes off, putting on a dark pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt, pulling his dark blue-gray jacket over himself. He combed his hair once again; checking it twice to make sure it looked nice. Then, Bucky walked to the pub, his hands shoved into his pockets. It wasn't too hard to spot Erin; she had worn a nice skirt and a v-neck, her long hair tumbling around her shoulders. Bucky held his breath, biting the inside of his cheek as he admired her choice of clothing. A faint smile lit up her face, though the air around her was depressing.

"Hey," Bucky greeted, forcing his eyes to stay above neck level. Erin shrugged. They both walked in, Bucky's hand softly placed between her shoulder blades, guiding her to a booth.

"I thought you like this place," Bucky teased.

"It's the only pub I really know," she exhaled.

"Something's on your mind," Bucky observed, requesting for two beers to be brought at their table. Erin shrugged and didn't say anything until she received a giant glass, filled to the brim and foaming. She took a large gulp of it. Bucky watched her, concerned.

"That guy at the restaurant. I wanted to tell you but I…I panicked, I didn't know what to do and I just broke down-"

"Hey, slow down. It's okay. Start at the beginning," Bucky suggested, leaning against the table.

"It started out a few years ago, when I used to live in Michigan. I just finished high school and was going to college for the time being. I met this guy, Eric Worman. As much as I hate to admit it, I found him extraordinarily handsome. He charmed me, quite easily, and asked if we could meet up somewhere. I agreed and we got along really well. We had very similar interests and I should have thought it creepy, but at the time, I was just ecstatic that I had met someone of the opposite gender with my own interests. So, we hung out more and more until we got into a relationship. Suddenly, he was constantly coming over to my house and texting me and suddenly, it got really weird. He always needed to know where I was, who I was with, and basically everything. He would break into my house, clean it up and do the laundry and sometimes I would find him in my room, just-"Erin paused, shivering. She looked as if she was going to spew her drink everywhere. Bucky patiently waited, already knowing what Eric had been doing in her room. She took another large gulp of her drink before continuing.

"I began to feel uncomfortable about that, feeling vulnerable and…and completely terrified. I couldn't walk alone at night, because he always conveniently showed up next to me. Many times, he kept offering drinks and I refused them. Then, one time, I was at my home, alone with him. My roommate was out at the time being and he kept insisting that I have a drink to calm my nerves; I was just being paranoid. He kept stroking my back and smelling my hair and slid a glass of water to me. It was just _water_. So, I drank it and the next thing I know, I felt woozy and dizzy. Eric was guiding me to my room. I don't remember much, but my roommate came back in time to stop him from doing anything…_serious_. From what she had said, we were both n-…" Erin clasped a hand over her mouth, hunching her shoulders up as she shook, fighting back tears. Bucky felt sick himself, wishing he had just ripped the freak's eyes out. Anger surged up, wanting to pummel Eric's face. He had the chance and he didn't take it.

"Even after that, Eric stalked me, constantly watching me. Many nights, I couldn't sleep because I felt his eyes on me," she inhaled through her nose.

"Why didn't you call the police?" Bucky asked, not really sure how good the police were nowadays. They couldn't be too particularly good, considering that they just let The Winter Soldier and Captain America destroy half of Washington D.C. with even batting an eye.

"I was scared, Bucky. I didn't know what to do. The police in my neighborhood weren't the greatest and would never have believed my case," she explained, biting her lower lip.

"But you could have tried-"

"You don't understand the situation I was in! I was young and terrified for my life and I didn't know what to have done. If my case was turned down, Eric would come after me. In the end, I decided against it, deeming it something normal. I know, it was stupid," Erin sighed, rubbing her head and finishing off her drink. Another beer replaced it.

"Once I finished college, I got a new number, and basically new everything, packed up and ended up here. Since then, he never troubled me until now," Erin lowered her head, staring into her drink, "I'm scared Bucky."

"I won't let him touch you. I promise," Bucky reached out, touching Erin with his human hand to console her. She swallowed and glanced up at him.

"Thank you," her voice was quiet as she drank even more of her alcohol.

* * *

By the end of the end, Erin was thoroughly drunk. Bucky wasn't even affected by the amount that he drank, thanks to his metabolism. Erin was all over the place, now giggling happily and stumbling over everything. Bucky had to grab her many times to keep her from falling over. After the fifth time of saving her from smashing her face on the floor, Bucky decided to just seize her and hold her tightly against his side, his arm wrapped snuggly against her waist. He guided her out of the pub, hissing every time she stumbled. Of course, Bucky was able to keep her steady for a bit until she seemed to glide out of his grip, watching herself in the window. She seemed so fascinated in her reflection; it was so stupid that even Bucky chuckled lowly, slightly amused by her drunken state.

"Come on; let's get you home," he lightly said, bringing her away from the windows. She reluctantly pulled away, pouting by sticking her lower lip out.

"I don't want to go home. Can I stay at your place?"

"You can be there for a few minutes. It's rather late and I want to get you home so you can get some proper sleep," he responded. Erin clapped her hands together, ultimately excited for no reason at all. Bucky rolled his eyes.

"But stay close to me, got it?" Bucky warned and wrapped his right hand around Erin's bicep, leading her to his apartment. Dare he call it home? Maybe; at least it wasn't the homeless shelter he had to hunker down in. He gritted his teeth together, keeping an eye on the drunken woman stumbling after him.

Finally, they arrived at the apartment complex. Erin swayed on her feet, mostly leaning against Bucky. They climbed up the stairs, Erin hugging his arm. Once they reached his room, Bucky pulled his key out of his pocket, holding back a small yawn. He shoved it into the lock and unlocked the door, guiding Erin inside. He went to the kitchen; Erin stumbled to the living room and fell onto the couch. Bucky took off his jacket and tossed it onto the counter.

"Want some water?" he asked, not even waiting for an answer as he pulled out two small glasses and filled them with tap water.

"Buckyyyyyyyy," Erin whined, calling for him. Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, having to shift his stance slightly.

"Hold on, I'm coming," he muttered, staring at the ground as he went. He lifted his eyes, nearly jumping out of his skin at the sight before him. There sat Erin, sitting with her legs crossed in only her v-neck and panties. They were black and smaller than what Bucky remembered women's undergarments were like. She smiled, forcing herself up.

"Bucky," she purred, walking over to him, like a wobbly seductress. Though, Bucky could tell that she must be new to this whole thing, because something wasn't quite right when she walked. Erin reached him and steadied herself by pressing her hands against the soldier's chest, blinking quickly. She gave a sloppy smile.

"Hiii," she snorted and leaned her chin against him. Bucky gulped, the glasses still in his hands as he stared down at her with wide eyes. Quickly, he shoved the glasses somewhere on a flat surface, backing away from Erin. She pouted.

"Bucky," she lowered her voice and approached the soldier once more, pressing her palms against his stomach and trailing them down. She hooked her fingers into the loops of his jeans, tugging at them. A small gasp slipped out of Bucky's mouth as he felt himself stir down there, the blood rushing from his brain to down under. Erin giggled. She used one hand and unzipped his zipper, pressing the top of her head against his strong stomach. Bucky grabbed her hands, pulling her away.

"Erin, no," he sternly said, his heart in his throat, practically in a daze. He wanted her, needed her so badly. It's been so long since he's laid with someone else. Erin was basically offering herself up to him.

No. She wasn't sober and would be horrified that Bucky had taken advantage of her drunkenness. In fact, Bucky was disgusted with himself that the thought even slipped itself into his head. He grimaced.

"But, Bucckkkyyy," she whined again, struggling in his grasp. Bucky gritted his teeth, pushing her away from him and then twirling her around until her back was pressed firmly against his chest. The woman giggled once more and arched her rear against Bucky's crotch, causing him to groan. Angry with himself, he angled his hips away from her.

"Damn it, Erin! I told you to stop!" he growled; Erin froze. Finally, now Bucky can get her to pull her skirt back on and get her home before her drunken state did anything else embarrassing. He prayed that she wouldn't remember this, at all.

"Bucky, I'm sleepy," she sighed and leaned forward, practically forcing Bucky to wrap his arms around her front to keep her from falling forward, "Carry me."

The Winter Soldier cocked an eyebrow. Did she expect to sleep here? Bucky didn't really see that coming, but he supposed she could sleep somewhere. His bed would be appropriate; he would take the couch. Erin turned around, stretching her arms over his neck and rose herself so she could latch onto his hips with her legs. Bucky gulped. He didn't have much of a choice now, so he took her down to his room, her chin resting on his shoulder, her breath tickling his neck. Bucky shivered.

The sergeant reached the bedroom and aimed to put her down onto the bed with little success. Once he reached the object of cushions, the drunk just wouldn't let go of him. He didn't want to tear her off of him, considering how much stronger he was than normal human beings.

"Don't leave me, Bucky," she softly cooed in his ear, causing the soldier to shiver once more. He laid her down on the bed, trying to pry her off of him.

"Erin, I can't. It wouldn't be right," he answered hoarsely, practically bent over on the bed. Erin tightened her grip on him, refusing to let go. So, Bucky gave up and braced his arm against the mattress, the metal plates readjusting themselves. He then proceeded to lie next to Erin, their limbs entangled within each other. He swallowed, feeling extremely awkward as Erin fell straight to sleep.

She was beautiful when her face was relaxed, her full lips parted slightly, her eyelashes long and curled, a few freckles dabbing her cheeks and nose. The way her coal black hair fell across her face framed her face perfectly. Bucky reached over and brushed some of her straight hair behind her ear, giving a small smile as Erin moaned and leaned her cheek into his calloused palm. He wanted to stay here with her next to him, but knew he couldn't.

Once he made sure that she was out, Bucky slid out of the bed, sighing. Walking quietly to the closest, he picked up his Captain America tank top and stripped himself of pants and a shirt, leaving himself in boxers. Then he slid the top over his torso and left the room, heading to the living room. It'd be best to sleep on the couch, tonight. Besides, it would be good to change up some things.

* * *

_"What is your name?" a man in a white cloak asked him, staring at a clipboard, spectacles donned. His grey eyes glanced up at the wounded soldier. Something didn't feel right about his left arm. Earlier, he had woke up and nearly destroyed everything. He wished he had._

_"I said, what is your name?" he demanded once more, narrowing his eyes. Bucky just glared at him._

_"Sergeant Piss-off, at your service," he spat, smirking. Bags were under his blue-green eyes and his hair was filled with dirt and sweat, his skin a sheen of sweat. The man in white nodded to some other people. They grabbed Bucky's shoulders and forced him back into the chair, shoving something in his mouth. Bucky struggled against them, feeling some strange machine fitting over his head. Then, a wave of agonizing pain shot through him, causing him to clamp down on the mouth guard and giving a shriek, his muscles taut. _

_"I will ask you again. What is your name?" the man asked, staring intently at Bucky._

_"James Buchanan Barnes of the 107__th__," he groaned, his head throbbing. The man nodded his head and they repeated the process. Mouth Guard, lean back, pain, question, answer. _

_"What is your name?"_

_"James Buchanan Barnes!"_

_"What is your name?"_

_"James…uh…James Buchanan Barnes."_

_"What is your name?"_

_"Buchanan Barnes!"_

_"What is your name?"_

_"B-Bu-Bucky Barnes!" Once more, they shoved him back into the chair as he writhed to be free. Why won't they kill him and be done with it? Why bother with his name? More anguish shot through him, his back arching as the electricity flowed through him._

_"What is your name?" the man in white asked, seeming impatient._

_"B-…Bucky…" he panted, lowering his head as sweat drenched his chest and forehead. Once again, they forced him back and hooked him back onto the machine before pushing him out of it once more._

_"What…is your name?" the man said, his voice quieter than usual. The soldier stared up at the man, green eyes wide in distress as he moved his lips, trying to form words._

_"B-…I-I don't know."_

Bucky lurched up, his shirt clinging to the sweaty parts of his body. His heart hammered in his chest as he recovered from the nightmare, pressing his cool metal hand against his forehead. Vulgar swears left his mouth. Something shuffled from the bedroom and into the hallway. The soldier leapt up, his arms raised up in a defensive stance. It was just Erin, with sheets around her body as if she was naked. She stared at Bucky with wide eyes, tears glinting in them.

"What's wrong?" he asked, taking a step forward. Erin stepped back.

"What did you do to me?" she asked in an accusing tone, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Erin, it's not what you think. You were drunk last night and-"

"You thought that'd be a perfect time to use me, right?"

"What-no! Erin, that's not it at all. I swear, you may not remember, but you refused to go back to your apartment. And it'd be nearly impossible to get you back in your state. So, I moved you to the bed and took the couch for myself instead," Bucky held his hands up as if defeated, giving his best puppy-dog eyes. Erin sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

"I'm sorry, it's just that since Eric…I couldn't-I was afraid that something had happened to me and I wasn't as lucky as I had been last time," she sniffed, tightly holding the sheets that were wrapped around her curvy body. She pressed a hand against her forehead, biting her lower lip until blood leaked out. Tears streaked down her cheeks. It had been so long since Bucky's seen her cry.

"I'm just so afraid Bucky-I don't know…I knew that you were too good of a person to do something so sick-"

Bucky moved forward and embraced the girl, letting her tears soak into his shirt as she tightly clung to him. The assassin tried to calm her, not quite knowing what to do. He could take out a man with only a sniper from a 100+ meters away; he knew every technique of hand to hand combat; he wielded a knife like it was an extension of his hand. Yet, The Winter Soldier had no idea of how to calm down a crying woman. It's wasn't like Bucky was trained for this. Erin pulled her face away, wiping at her eyes with her wrists.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to ruin your shirt," she promptly apologized, rubbing her temple. Bucky bit the inside of his cheek.

"It's fine. I don't mind, really," he waved off her apology, shrugging like it was nothing. Erin took a step back, filling the few feet between them with awkwardness. She glanced around.

"Where's my skirt," she glumly questioned, bags under her eyes. Bucky pressed his lips together in a tight thin line, searching for it until he found it shoved under the couch. He grabbed the article of clothing and handed it to Erin. She stared at it before simply nodding and headed off to the bathroom to change. Right, they had to be at work in only…two hours. They had time.

So, Bucky changed into work clothing and grabbed another apple, waiting for Erin. He heard footsteps in the hallway.

"Hey, I need to go back to my apartment," Erin leisurely walked over to him, fully clothed and her face wiped clean of substances. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, strands of black hair sticking out of it. Bucky nodded, chewing slowly. He pointed to the basket of red apples on the counter, offering them to the possibly hungry girl. She denied the offer.

"I just need to do a few things," Bucky murmured and headed off to comb his hair, just like he used to. It gave him a nice sense of nostalgia and it didn't give him an overbearing headache. Then, he came out and nodded to Erin, giving her a small smile. She didn't return it and instead stared at the ground with crossed arms, following him out of his apartment and out into the street. They walked side by side, not really saying anything to each other as they took the small walk to Erin's home.

Once there, they walked into the building, Erin leading Bucky to her room. Before unlocking it, she turned to face him. Feeling as if she needed space, Bucky took a step back, clasping his hands together.

"Thank you Bucky. I don't really think any other guy would actually respect that boundary of consent. Whatever I accidentally did or said last night, I am deeply sorry for that and it embarrasses me to know what I might have done," her blue eyes bore into Bucky's as she took a small step forward, softly grabbing his gloved hand. Bucky broke the gaze and instead let his eyes wander to his bionic hand, wondering why she had specifically chosen to take that one.

"It's what any other person would do," he shrugged it off, refusing to look at her. Erin stepped closer until they were nearly chest to chest (mind the height difference). Bucky's heart practically stopped and instead thumped heavily against his chest, his throat dry.

"No, Bucky. If you haven't noticed, the world has gone to hell. It seems as if people like you are rare here. And I thank you for that," she gently cupped Bucky's left cheek in her hand, standing up on her tiptoes until her lips met his clean shaven cheek, his stubble growing back already. Bucky's eyes went wide as he stood there, his fingers curling tightly over her's, reveling in her scent and touch. Sparks shot through Bucky, bringing back a feeling that he once knew. His cheek and entire body tingled, face flushed. He wanted to pull her into his arms and keep her against him forever and a day. Then she pulled away and the moment was over.

Erin then went into her apartment, closing the door on Bucky. He touched his cheek, still heavily blushing from the contact. She had chosen to hold his metal hand; what did that exactly mean? His spine tingled. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her that he was The Winter Soldier, the man who killed over 2 dozen in just 70 years, the man who always succeeded in a mission, the man who was a Howling Commando, the man who could easily charm the women, the man who was best friends with Captain America-no, with Steve Rogers. The man who was out of time.

Bucky wanted to confess everything to her, to show her who he really was. He didn't want her to find out herself and be terrified of him. Right then and there, Bucky decided that within a week's time, he would tell her everything about him. He only hoped she would accept him for who he truly was.

Bucky turned away from Erin's door, cheeks still tinged pink and his fingers still tingling.

* * *

**Not too shabby, I suppose. Sorry for uploading this a bit late. Just got back home from vacation and typed this up in the car during the week, so I hoped you enjoy this chapter! I kind of like it, because it gives Erin some of her backstory. **

**There's not much I have to say, but thank you so very much for the new reviews! Reading them just makes my heart swell and it's the highlight of my days. **

**Review, follow, favorite! I love to hear your thoughts on the chapters and please pardon any grammar mistakes.**

**Have a great day/night where ever you are.**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Wearing All Vintage Misery, Nope, I Think it Looked a Little Better on Bucky

July 26, 2014

Saturday, 1:21 P.M.

_Yeah cool. See you there tonight _read the text from Bella. We hadn't had a girl's night in such a long time, so we planned to go out to some restaurant tonight.

_You bringing Skylar?_ I typed up with ease.

_Yeah :D._

I still couldn't believe the fact that Bella and Skylar were just friends. The way they acted around each other implied something more. And if it did turn out that Bella and Skylar were romantically involved with other, then that would be perfectly fine; it's not any of my business on who they should love.

Speaking of Skylar, she always seemed so tense around Bucky. Uncomfortable, her eyes always shifting to him as if suspiciously watching him. Sometimes, Bucky would be able to see the occasional glances. I never understood Skylar very much, anyways. At times, she had such a cold demeanor, as if she could cut you with her eyes. Then, other times (usually around Bella) she would be casual and free. Maybe Bucky made her nervous. I guess you couldn't really blame her. Bucky was a shady looking guy and he has confessed to killing people.

That didn't matter. Bucky was a good man, no matter what's he done before. My face warmed at the thought of Bucky. My heart sped up as a small and lazy smile grew.

For some odd reason, every time I'm now around Bucky, I get this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. It twists around and I feel giddy and happy. I've felt it before, but maybe this was real. I couldn't tell. Who am I, a 24 year old, to say how I feel? I was too young for this and have the rest of my life in front of me. I don't know anything about what I feel because I'm just too damn young.

At least, that's what my father would say.

Sure, I've known Bucky for a few months now. I heard worse stories, but for some odd reason, it didn't feel realistic to meet this stranger and then have…feelings for him. Still, people could grow affectionate towards each other even though they've only known each other for a few weeks. Like Romeo and Juliet!

Wait, never mind, they killed themselves in the end. Not a good comparison.

I crossed my arms, putting my phone down. The hairs on my neck rose, feeling watched. I lowly turned towards the window in my living room, seeing nothing.

Ever since Eric arrived (actually, even before that), I've felt like someone was following me. Not necessarily Eric himself, but just…something. The faint memory of the man that attacked us in the alleyway that one night at the Alder's Pub flickered in my mind. Maybe they had a connection?

I just shook my head and gathered my things, wearing gray-blue denim shorts and an olive green t-shirt. I was supposed to meet Bucky at the park, today. I bit back a small smile at the thought of Bucky again.

* * *

Bucky leaned back on the park bench, keeping his hands in his jacket pockets. Maybe super soldiers didn't get hot and sweat as much as the normal human does. It would explain a lot.

He had asked Erin to meet up with him. Bucky had some "special" activity planned for the both of them.

"Bucky!" Erin called out to him, slowly jogging up to him. A small smile flickered on his face as he stood, hunching his shoulders.

"So what are we doing today?" Erin inquired as she slid up next to him. Bucky rolled his shoulders, his fingers sliding over the pocket knife in his well…pocket.

"Actually, I wanted to teach you some stuff," Bucky responded, the corner of his lips twitching up into a soft grin. Erin tilted her head, cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Follow me," Bucky waved her over and after a few minutes, they stopped under a leafy tree. It was cool and had a lot of shade. Perfect. Bucky pulled out the knife, causing Erin to hold her hands out and jump back.

"Woah there!" she called out in alarm. The assassin gave her a strange look and handed it to her, handle first.

"I'm going to show you some self defense moves. It'll help you, especially with Eric around. Is that okay?" he tentatively asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Erin nodded, slipping her bag off of her shoulder and tossing it on the ground.

"Alright, let me show you how to use the knife. What you want to do is-"

"-stick 'em with the pointy end!"

"What? Well, yes, but…"

"Sorry, go on. It's uh…from a show I watch."

"Right, well, you hold the knife at an angle, usually having the serrated edge pointed at the attacker. Have one foot forward, the other back behind you. Keep your left arm up to block any advancing moves. Try it," Bucky gestured towards Erin. She nodded and planted her feet on the ground, raising her hands, the blade practically gleaming in the dark light. Bucky tapped his chin and moved next to Erin, pushing her ankles further apart with his foot.

"You need a wide stance to make sure that you have balance. Also, don't keep your back and legs so straight. It makes you stiff," Bucky slightly squatted down, subtly curving his back. Erin watched him and reflected his image, staring straight in front of her with her lips pursed. The assassin glanced at Erin before it became staring. He admired the way she stood, the way her features stood out. He liked how her shirt clung to all the right places, her shorts slightly peeled back to reveal a faint tan line.

"Am I doing something wrong?" Erin asked, snapping Bucky out of his daze. He shook his head and moved around front.

"Alright, since you have no real training in combat, just keep the blade close and slash at your attacker. The best thing to do is to stab your attacker in the gut, then horizontally pull down to his or her abdomen. That can usually get them to back off. Or, if you can't quite get close enough to them, aim for the legs. Wounding them in the thighs, calves, feet, or ankles can generally slow them down, giving you time to run. Sure, you can stab them in the shoulder or arm, but it won't slow them down very much. You want to give them a limp. But beware. You will make them angry and they will come after you," Bucky explained, "If you are found without a weapon, kick them in the knee. If you hit in the front, it most likely will break the knee cap. In the back, they might just fall over."

"Also, don't slap them. Even if you're just flailing your hands around, keep them in tight fists. Here, give me your hand," Bucky took a hold of Erin's small hand, appreciative of how soft and gentle it felt compared to his rough and calloused palms. He situated her fingers into a fist, placing her thumb in the correct position. He felt her blue eyes boring into him and he pretended not to notice.

"With your fist like this, it acts like a club and it can hurt if you get the right hit in. You also have to be careful because if you hit with your pinkie and ring finger, you'll most likely break them," Bucky pulled back, earning a giggle from Erin. He looked at her, confused.

"What's…so funny?"

"You!" Erin beamed at him, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Me?"

"Don't look so hurt, Buck. I find it…adorable at how knowledgeable you are in this combat stuff," Erin shrugged her shoulders, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Well, when you're one of the world's most formidable assassins, you kind of have to know this stuff. Bucky sheepishly glanced down, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Don't worry. I don't mind learning it. It's actually quite useful, though I doubt I'll be able to even remember it all," Erin sighed. Bucky watched Erin put the pocket knife in her purse.

"You'll be fine; you're smart," Bucky lightly brushed Erin's bicep with the pads of his fingers. He noticed how her cheeks reddened slightly before she spoke up again, tucking her black hair behind her ear.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" Erin asked with a grin.

* * *

"She was really sick, in fact, her entire body had a ton of health issues. I'm surprised that she even survived at all. Hey, she's like Captain America in a way, ya know? Being super sick, but still an honorable and loyal person," I reminisced over my old friend, picking up my fork. We ended up at some small restaurant called the Misty Plaza Joint. It was a bit large and seemed rather vintage. I had ordered just a salad and Bucky ordered a steak. Right when our food arrived, Bucky wolfed his steak down mercilessly. I was still working on my food.

"When we first met, you were out running. Do you still run?" he asked, looking miserable as he practically devoured all the rolls we received as appetizers.

"No. I'm too scared now," I shrugged my shoulders, staring at a lettuce leaf.

"I understand," Bucky nodded and became a bit distant, subconsciously rubbing his temple with his index and middle finger.

"I never told you about my parents," I brought up the subject of my past, crossing and uncrossing my legs. Bucky's eyes shifted towards me, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't have a sob story or anything. I mean, it doesn't even matter-"

"-Erin…"

"Right. Well, they were drug addicts. You know, heroine and basically everything else. They uh…tried injecting it into me once. Just, one night, I was curled up in my bed when they burst through the door and tried stabbing the needle in my arm. Luckily, I was able to get away from them and phone the police, but…" I sighed, setting my fork down, suddenly not hungry anymore. Bucky stared at me, looking slightly confused. He sat back in his chair.

"What?" I asked him, tilting my head.

"Nothing."

"You know, I don't know much where you came from."

"I'm pretty sure I was born in Shelbyville, Indiana and when I was still young, I moved to Brooklyn," he responded and became distant, as if reminiscing about his past. Then, he broke out of his spell and began to eat again.

Bucky was a walking mystery and I couldn't crack the code.

* * *

Bucky walked me back to my apartment.

"Do you mind if I come in?" he asked, seeming shy.

"Actually I sort of do," Bucky looked hurt, but quickly wiped the expression away and replaced it with a blank face, "not that it's anything personal. I'm supposed to go out with Skylar and Bella. I have to get ready and then I'm going to leave."

"Oh, well, have fun I guess," Bucky shrugged with a grin and turned, heading down the hall. I watched his back until he disappeared down the stairs. A faint smile flickered on my face as I closed the door, tossing my purse on the kitchen table and heading to my room. I wasn't even able to get there when a loud knock interrupted me.

"Already? Hold on, I'm coming," I assumed it was Skylar and Bella, here to pick me up. So, I went to the door, unlocked it and opened it up, only to reveal…

"Hello, darling."

Eric. His body was clasped in a t-shirt and jeans and held a needle in his hand. I gasped and threw the door closed, only to have Eric throw his arm out, keeping the door open. I jumped back, panicking. My knife…my purse! I darted to the table and dumped my purse out, grabbing my pocket knife and flicking the blade out.

"That won't stop me," Eric chuckled darkly. I lunged forward, slicing his arm. Eric hissed and grabbed my wrist, trying to force me to drop it. Instead, I strained against his strength. His grip faltered and I was able to use the extra force to shove the blade into the top of his thigh. Eric let loose a growl, stumbling back.

"You bitch!" he insulted me, holding his leg. I turned towards the window in my living room. There would be no way that I could escape through the door. Yet, I couldn't get out through the window either. I was putting all of my bets on one thing.

So, I flung myself towards the window and practically threw it open and knocked out the filter, sticking my torso through it. With all of my might, I let loose a scream for one name.

"BUCKY!"

* * *

He stopped in mid-step, his hands in his pockets as he heard Erin's shriek. Bucky twisted around, only to see hands around her neck and dragging her away from her window. Bucky doubled back, ripping open the door to the apartment and sprinting up the stairs. Horrid thoughts ran through his mind as he finally leaped onto Erin's floor, his speed unrealistic as he flew through the hallway. He automatically knew which apartment to be in; her door was ajar. Bucky grabbed the edge of the doorway and swung himself in there, seeing Eric wrestling Erin to the floor.

Bucky growled, causing Eric to turn around. He snarled back at him and lunged for Bucky. This was going to be easy. Bucky dodged to the right, only to have Eric suddenly change directions and head straight for him. He had a needle in his hand and it drove straight into Bucky's human arm. Eric pushed down on the top, causing the liquid to be injected into Bucky. Yet, there was no effect on Bucky.

"Wha-?" Eric didn't have time to respond as Bucky grabbed the collar of his shirt and slammed Eric into the wall, causing him to break it. Repeatedly with his bionic arm, Bucky's fist pummeled Eric's face, blood splattering on Bucky. He bared his teeth like a vicious animal, his face contorted into something vile. Anger surged through him as he continued to break Eric's skull. Finally, he pulled away and roughly flung the creep on the ground. Then, Bucky propped himself up on his knee and wrapped both hands around Eric's fleshy neck, choking him. He wouldn't have lasted long; sick green and purple bruises began to form around his neck.

"-ucky, stop!" Erin shook his shoulder, but he had hardly felt it. She had stood there for the longest time, trying desperately to get him to snap out of this behavior. Bucky pulled away, standing and quickly grabbing Erin's shoulders.

"Did he hurt you?" he questioned, relief filling him when she shook her head. She had her cell phone in hand. She must have called the police. Not even five minutes later did the police arrive; the station was rather close to them. Bucky had to explain what happened while Erin comforted herself, shying away from anybody. The paramedics laid Eric on a cot, each of them cringing at the wounds.

"No human could have done this with their bare hands," someone muttered. Bucky heard and glanced back at Erin. He would do anything for her. The police left, leaving Bucky alone with Erin. He quietly shut the door, locking it. Erin was in the kitchen, making herself a cup of coffee. Bucky joined her, making himself known by scuffing his feet across the floor. Erin turned to him, still shaking.

"Erin-"

"Bucky I-…I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. I'm so stupid, I-"Erin set her coffee down and placed the heel of her palm on her forehead, fighting back tears.

"Are you kidding me? Erin, you at least listened to what I had told you about the knife. You did the best you could," Bucky responded, softly cupping Erin's cheek. She stared up at him, her lower lip quivering. Bucky gave a small smile.

"It's okay to cry, you know," he whispered to her. Erin wrapped her arms around Bucky's torso, hugging him tightly as her body shook. Bucky hugged her back, keeping her close and relishing the fact that she was still with him, here and safe in his arms.

He would kill anyone who would try and hurt Erin.

* * *

**So so sorry, this is super late, I was busy during the weekend, so I had no time to finish this. And then I began losing muse to even write, so that's why this chapter is so short. I do hope you enjoyed what little I have of it.**

**Thank you for the reviews and follows and favorites. It means a lot to me for you guys to even take a few seconds out of your time in order to review or favorite or follow this story.**

**Have a fantastic day/night, where ever you are.**


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